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“ The girl's face shone like a piece of delicate statuary ” {page 37). 

[.Frontispttee* 



Mysterious Mr. Sabin 


®y 

Phillips Oppenheim 

Author of 


“A Prince of Sinners,” ‘‘Anna the Adventuress,” etc. 


Boston 

Little, Brown, and Company 

1919 


f 



Copyright, igoy. 

By Little, Brown, and Compahy, 


All rtghti reterved 


' ->^1 


CONTENTS 


CRAP. 







PAGE 

I. 

A SUPPER PARTY AT THE MILAN 

• 


• 


• 

7 

II. 

A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT . 


• 


• 


13 

III. 

THE WARNING OF FELIX . 

• 


• 


• 

22 

IV. 

AT THE RUSSIAN AMBASSADOR’S. 


• 


• 


30 

V. 

THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN 

• 


• 


• 

39 

VI. 

A COMPACT OF THREE , 


• 


• 


46 

VII. 

WHO IS MR. SABIN ? 

• 


• 


• 

52 

VIII. 

A MEETING IN BOND STREET . 


• 


• 


61 

IX. 

THE SHADOWS THAT GO BEFORE 

• 


• 


• 

69 

X. 

THE SECRETARY . 


• 


• 


76 

XI. 

THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 

• 


• 


• 

83 

XII. 

wolfenden’s luck 


• 


• 


92 

XIII. 

A GREAT WORK 

• 


• 


• 

104 

XIV. 

THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK 


• 


III 

XV. 

THE COMING AND GOING OF MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 

II8 

XVI. 

GENIUS OR MADNESS ? . 


• 


• 


126 

xyii. 

THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS . 

• 


• 


• 

132 

XVIII. 

" HE HAS GONE TO THE EMPEROR I ’* 

• 


• 


I4I 

XIX. 

wolfenden’s LOVE-MAKING 

• 


• 


• 

146 

XX. 

FROM A DIM WORLD . , 


• 


• 


155 

XXI. 

HARCUTT'S INSPIRATION 

• 


• 


• 

167 

XXII. 

FROM THE BEGINNING . 


• 


• 


177 


5 


6 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 






PAGB 

XXIII. 

MR. SABIN EXPLAINS . • 


• 


• 

1 86 

XXIV. 

THE WAY OF THE WOMAN . 

• 


• 


193 

XXV. 

A HANDFUL OF ASHES . 


• 


• 

199 

XXVI. 

MR. BLATHERWICK AS ST. ANTHONY 


• 


207 

XXVII. 

BY CHANCE OR DESIGN . 


• 


• 

213 

XXVIII. 

A MIDNIGHT VISITOR . . . 

• 


• 


220 

XXIX. 

“ IT WAS MR. SABIN ” 


• 


• 

227 

XXX. 

THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 




234 

XXXI. 

“l MAKE NO PROMISE” . 


• 


• 

242 

XXXII. 

THE SECRET OF MR. SABIN'S NIECE 

• 


• 


253 

XXXIII. 

MR. SABIN TRIUMPHS 


• 


• 

263 

XXXIV. 

BLANCHE MERTON’S LITTLE PLOT 

• 


• 


269 

XXXV. 

A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 


• 


• 

276 

XXXVI. 

THE MODERN RICHELIEU 

• 


• 


287 

XXXVII. 

FOR A GREAT STAKE 


• 


• 

295 

XXXVIII. 

THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 

• 


• 


304 

XXXIX. 

THE HEART OF THE PRINCESS . 


• 


• 

314 

XL. 

THE WAY TO PAU 

• 


• 


319 

XLI. 

MR. AND MRS. WATSON OF NEW YORK 

• 


• 

327 

XLII. 

A WEAK CONSPIRATOR 

• 


• 


333 

XLIII. 

THE COMING OF THE “ KAISER WILHELM 

ff 

• 

341 

XLIV. 

THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED 

• 


• 


346 

XLV. 

MR.' SABIN IN DANGER . 


• 


• 

353 

_ XLVI. 

MR. WATSON IS ASTONISHED . 

• 


• 


358 

XLVII. 

A CHARMED LIFE , , 


• 


• 

363 

XLVIII. 

THE DOOMSCHEN 

• 


• 


368 

XLIX. 

MR. SABIN IS SENTIMENTAL 


• 


• 

374 

L. 

A HARBOUR TRAGEDY. 

• 


• 


378 

LI. 

THE PERSISTENCE OF FELIX 


• 


• 

382 

LII. 

MRS. JAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 


• 


388 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


CHAPTER I 

A SUPPER PARTY AT THE “MILAN.” 

“ To all such meetings as these ! ” cried Densham, lifting 
his champagne glass from under the soft halo of the rose- 
shaded electric lights. “ Let us drink to them, Wolfenden 
—Mr. Felix ! ” 

“ To all such meetings ! ” echoed his vis-a-vis^ also finger- 
ing the delicate stem of his glass. “ An excellent toast ! ” 

“ To all such meetings as these ! ” murmured the third 
man, who made up the little party. “A capital toast 
indeed ! ” 

They sat at a little round table in the brilliantly-lit supper- 
room of one of London’s most fashionable restaurants. 
Around them were the usual throng of well dressed men, of 
women with bare shoulders and flashing diamonds, of dark- 
visaged waiters, deft, silent, swift-footed. The pleasant 
hum of conversation, louder and more unrestrained as the 
hour grew towards midnight, was varied by the popping of 
corks and many little trills of feminine laughter. Of dis- 
cordant sounds there were none. The waiters’ feet fell 
noiselessly upon the thick carpet, the clatter of plates was 
a thing unheard of. From the balcony outside came the 
low, sweet music of a German orchestra played by master 
hands. 

I 


8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


As usual the place was filled. Several late-comers, who 
had neglected to order their table beforehand, had already, 
after a disconsolate tour of the room, been led to one 
of the smaller apartments, or had driven off again to 
where the lights from the larger but less smart Altone 
flashed out upon the smooth, dark waters of the Thames. 
Only one table was as yet unoccupied, and that was within 
a yard or two of the three young men who were celebrating 
a chance meeting in Pall Mall so pleasantly. It was laid 
for two only, and a magnificent bunch of white roses had, a 
few minutes before, been brought in and laid in front of one 
of the places by the director of the rooms himself. A man’s 
small visiting-card was leaning against a wineglass. The 
table was evidently reserved by some one of importance, for 
several late-comers had pointed to it, only to be met by a 
decided shake of the head on the part of the waiter to 
whom they had appealed. As time went oh, this empty 
table became the object of some speculation to the three 
young men. 

“ Our neighbours,” remarked Wolfenden, “ are running it 
pretty fine. Can you see whose name is upon the card, 
Densham ? ” 

The man addressed raised an eyeglass to his left eye and 
leaned forward. Then he shook his head, he was a little 
too far away. 

“No! It is a short name. Seems to begin with S. 
Probably a son of Israel ! ” 

“His taste in flowers is at any rate irreproachable,” 
Wolfenden remarked. “ I wish they would come. I am in 
a genial mood, and I do not like to think of any one having 
to hurry over such an excellent supper.” 

“The lady,” Densham suggested, “is probably theatrical, 
and has to dress after the show. Half-past twelve is a 

barbarous hour to turn us out. I wonder ” 

“Sh-shI” 


A SUPPER PARTY AT THE ** MILAN 


9 


The slight exclamation and a meaning frown from Wolf- 
enden checked his speech. He broke off in the middle of 
his sentence, and looked round. There was the soft swish 
of silk passing his chair, and the faint suggestion of a 
delicate and perfectly strange perfume. At last the table 
was being taken possession of. A girl, in a wonderful white 
dress, was standing there, leaning over to admire the great 
bunch of creamy-white blossoms, whilst a waiter respectfully 
held a chair for her. A few steps behind came her com- 
panion, an elderly man who walked wdth a slight limp, 
leaning heavily upon a stick. She turned to him and made 
some remark in French, pointing to the flowers. He smiled, 
and passing her, stood for a moment leaning slightly upon 
the back of his chair, waiting, with a courtesy which was 
obviously instinctive, until she should have seated herself. 
During the few seconds which elapsed before they were 
settled in their places he glanced around the room with a 
smile, slightly cynical, but still good-natured, parting his 
thin, well-shaped lips. Wolfenden and Densham, who were 
looking at him with frank curiosity, he glanced at carelessly. 
The third young man of the party, Felix, was bending low 
over his plate, and his face was hidden. 

The buzz of conversation in their immediate vicinity had 
been temporarily suspended. Every one who had seen 
them enter had been interested in these late-comers, and 
many curious eyes had followed them to their seats. Briefly, 
the girl was beautiful and the man distinguished. When 
they had taken their places, however, the hum of conversa- 
tion recommenced. Densham and Wolfenden leaned over 
to one another, and their questions were almost simultaneous. 

“ Who are they ? ” 

“Who is she?” 

Alas ! neither of them knew ; neither of them had the 
least idea. Felfac, Wolfenden’s guest, it seemed useless to 
ask. He had only just arrived in England, and he was a 


10 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


complete stranger to London. Besides, he did not seem to 
be interested. He was proceeding calmly with his supper, 
with his back directly turned upon the new-comers. Beyond 
one rapid, upward glance at their entrance he seemed 
almost to have avoided looking at them. Wolfenden 
thought of this afterwards. 

“ I see Harcutt in the corner,” he said. “ He will know 
who they are for certain. I shall go and ask him.” 

He crossed the room and chatted for a few minutes with 
a noisy little party in an adjacent recess. Presently he put 
his question. Alas ! not one of them knew ! Harcutt, a 
journalist of some note and a man who prided himself 
upon knowing absolutely everybody, was as helpless as the 
rest. To his humiliation he was obliged to confess it. 

“I never saw either of them before in my life,” he said. 
“ I cannot imagine who they can be. They are certainly 
foreigners.” 

“ Very likely,” Wolfenden agreed quietly. “ In fact, I 
never doubted it. An English girl of that age — she is very 
young by the bye — would never be so perfectly turned out.” 

“ What a very horrid thing to say. Lord Wolfenden,” ex- 
claimed the woman on whose chair his hand was resting. 
“Don’t you know that dressing is altogether a matter of 
one’s maid ? You may rely upon it that that girl has found 
a treasure ! ” 

“ Well, I don’t know,” Wolfenden said, smiling. “ Young 
English girls always seem to me to look so dishevelled in 
evening dress. Now this girl is dressed with the art of a 
Frenchwoman of mature years, and yet with the simplicity 
of a child.” 

The woman laid down her lorgnettes and shrugged her 
shoulders. 

“ I agree with you,” she said, “ that she is probably not 
English. If she were she would not wear such diamonds 
at her age.” 


A SUPPER PARTY AT THE MILAN" 


II 


“By the bye,” Harcutt remarked with sudden cheerfulness, 
“we shall be able to find out who the man is when we 
leave. The table was reserved, so the name will be on the 
list at the door.” 

His friends rose to leave and Harcutt, making his adieux, 
crossed the room with Wolfenden. 

“We may as well have our coffee together,” he said. 
“I ordered Turkish and IVe been waiting for it ten 
minutes. We got here early. Hullo ! where’s your other 
guest ? ” 

Densham was sitting alone. Wolfenden looked at him 
inquiringly. 

“Your friend Felix has gone,” he announced. “Sud- 
denly remembered an engagement with his chief, and 
begged you to excuse him. Said he’d look you up to- 
morrow.” 

“ Well, he’s an odd fellow,” Wolfenden remarked, motion- 
ing Harcutt to the vacant place. “ His looks certainly belie 
his name.” 

“He’s not exactly a cheerful companion for a supper 
party,” Densham admitted, “ but I like his face. How did 
you come across him, Wolfenden, and where does he hail 
from ? ” 

“ He’s a junior attache at the Russian Embassy,” Wolf- 
enden said, stirring his coffee. “Only just been ap- 
pointed. Charlie Meynell gave him a line of introduction 
to me ; said he was a decent sort, but mopish ! I looked 
him up last week, met him in Pall Mall just as you came 
along, and asked you both to supper. What liqueurs, 
Harcutt ? ” 

The conversation drifted into ordinary channels and 
flowed on steadily. At the same time it was maintained 
with a certain amount of difficulty. The advent of these two 
people at the next table had produced an extraordinary effect 
upon the three men. Harcutt was perhaps the least 


12 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


affected. He was a young man of fortune and natural 
gifts, who had embraced journalism as a career, and was 
really in love with his profession. Partly on account of his 
social position, which was unquestioned, and partly because 
his tastes tended in that direction, he had become the 
recognised scribe and chronicle of smart society. His pen 
was easy and fluent. He was an inimitable maker of short 
paragraphs. He prided himself upon knowing everybody 
and all about them. He could have told how much a year 
Densham, a rising young portrait painter, was making from 
his profession, and exactly what Wolfenden’s allowance 
from his father was. A strange face was an annoyance to 
him ; two, a humiliation. He had been piqued that he 
could not answer the eager questions of his own party as to 
these two people, and subsequently Wolfenden’s inquiries. 
The thought that very soon at any rate their name would 
be known to him was, in a sense, a consolation. The rest 
would be easy. Until he knew all about them he meant to 
conceal so far as possible his own interest. 


1 


CHAPTER II 

A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT 

The pitch of conversation had risen higher, still mingled 
with the intermittent popping of corks and the striking of 
matches. Blue wreaths of cigarette smoke were curling 
upwards — a delicate feeling of “abandon” was making 
itself felt amongst the roomful of people. The music grew 
softer as the babel of talk grew in volume. The whole 
environment became tinged with a faint but genial voluptu- 
ousness. Densham was laughing over the foibles of some 
mutual acquaintance ; Wolfenden leaned back in his chair, 
smoking a cigarette and sipping his Turkish coffee. His 
eyes scarcely left for a moment the girl who sat only a few 
yards away from him, trifling with a certain dainty indif- 
ference with the little dishes, which one after the other had 
been placed before her and removed. He had taken pains 
to withdraw himself from the discussion in which his friends 
were interested. He wanted to be quite free to watch her. 
To him she was certainly the most wonderful creature he 
had ever seen. In every one of her most trifling actions 
she seemed possessed of an original and curious grace, 
even the way she held her silver fork, toyed with her 
serviette, raised her glass to her lips and set it down again 
— all these little things she seemed to him to accomplish 
with a peculiar and wonderful daintiness. Of conversation 
between her companion and herself there was evidently 
very little, nor did she appear to expect it He was en joy- 

13 


14 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


ing his supper with the moderation and minute care for 
trifles which denote the epicure, and he only spoke to her 
between the courses. She, on the other hand, appeared to 
be eating scarcely anything. At last, however, the waiter 
set before her a dish in which she was evidently interested. 
Wolfenden recognised the pink frilled paper and smiled. 
She was human enough then to care for ices. She bent 
over it and shrugged her shoulders — turning to the waiter 
who was hovering near, she asked a question. He bowed 
and removed the plate. In a moment or two he reappeared 
with another. This time the paper and its contents were 
brown. She smiled as she helped herself — such a smile 
that Wolfenden wondered that the waiter did not lose his 
head, and hand her pepper and salt instead of gravely 
filling her glass. She took up her spoon and deliberately 
tasted the contents of her plate. Then she looked across 
the table, and spoke the first words in English which he 
had heard from her lips — 

“ Coflee ice. So much nicer than strawberry ! ” 

The man nodded back. 

“ Ices after supper are an abomination,” he said. “ They 
spoil the flavour of your wine, and many other things. But 
after all, I suppose it is waste of time to tell you so! 
A woman never understands how to eat until she is 
fifty.” 

She laughed, and deliberately finished the ice. Just as 
she laid down the spoon, she raised her eyes quietly and 
encountered Wolfenden’s. He looked away at once with 
an indifference which he felt to be badly assumed. Did 
she know, he wondered, that he had been watching her 
like an owl all the time ? He felt hot and uncomfortable — 
a veritable schoolboy at the thought. He plunged into the 
conversation between Harcutt and Densham— a conversa- 
tion which they had been sustaining with an effort. They 
too were still as interested in their neighbours, although 


A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT 


their positions at the table made it difficult for either to 
observe them closely. 

When three men are each thinking intently of something 
else, it is not easy to maintain an intelligent discussion. 
Wolfenden, to create a diversion, called for the bill. When 
he had paid it, and they were ready to depart, Densham 
looked up with a little burst of candour — 

“ She’s wonderful ! ” he exclaimed softly. 

“ Marvellous ! ” Wolfenden echoed. 

“ I wonder who on earth they can possibly be,” Harcutt 
said almost peevishly. Already he was being robbed of 
some part of his contemplated satisfaction. It was true 
that he would probably find the man’s name on the table- 
list at the door, but he had a sort of presentiment that 
the girl’s personality would elude him. The question of 
relationship between the man and the girl puzzled him. 
He propounded the problem and they discussed it with 
bated breath. There was no likeness at all ! Was there 
any relationship ? It was significant that although Harcutt 
was a scandalmonger and Wolfenden somewhat of a cynic, 
they discussed it with the most profound respect. Relation- 
ship after all of some sort there must be. What was it ? 
It was Harcutt who alone suggested what to Wolfenden 
seemed an abominable possibility. 

“Scarcely husband and wife, I should think,” he said 
thoughtfully, “ yet one never can tell ! ” 

Involuntarily they all three glanced towards the man. 
He was well preserved and his little imperial and short j2:rey 
moustache were trimmed with military precision, yet his 
hair was almost white, and his age could scarcely be less 
than sixty. In his way he was quite as interesting as the 
girl. His eyes, underneath his thick brows, were dark and 
clear, and his features were strong and delicately shaped. 
His hands were white and very shapely, the fingers were 
rather long, and he wore two singularly handsome rings, 


) 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


i6 

both set with strange stones. By the side of the table 
rested the stick upon which he had been leaning during 
his passage through the room. It was of smooth, dark 
wood polished like a malacca cane, and set at the top with 
a curious, green, opalescent stone, as large as a sparrow’s 
egg. The eyes of the three men had each in turn beei. 
arrested by it. In the electric light which fell softly upon 
the upper part of it, the stone seemed to burn and glow 
with a peculiar, iridescent radiance. Evidently it was a 
precious possession, for once when a waiter had offered to 
remove it to a stand at the other end of the room, the 
man had stopped him sharply and drawn it a little closer 
towards him. 

Wolfenden lit a fresh cigarette, and gazed thoughtfully 
into the little cloud of blue smoke. 

“Husband and wife,” he repeated slowly. “What an 
absurd idea ! More likely father and daughter ! ” 

“ How about the roses ? ” Harcutt remarked. “ A father 
does not as a rule show such excellent taste in flowers ! ” 

They had finished supper. Suddenly the girl stretched 
out her left hand and took a glove from the table. Wolfen- 
den smiled triumphantly. 

“ She has no wedding-ring,” he exclaimed softly. 

Then Harcutt, for the first time, made a remark for 
which he was never altogether forgiven — a remark which 
both the other men received in chilling silence. 

“ That may or may not be a matter for congratulation,” 
he said, twirling his moustache. “ One never knows ! ” 

Wolfenden stood up, turning his back upon Harcutt arni 
pointedly ignoring him. 

“ Let us go, Densham,” he said. “ We are almost the 
last” 

As a matter of fact his movement was made at exactly 
the right time. They could scarcely have left the room at 
the same moment as these two people, in whom manifestly 


A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT 


17 


they had been taking so great an interest. But by the 
time they had sent for their coats and hats from the cloak- 
room, and Harcutt had coolly scrutinised the table-list, 
they found themselves all together in a little group at the 
head of the stairs. 

Wolfenden, who was a few steps in front, drew back to 
allow them to pass. The man, leaning upon his stick, laid 
his hand upon the girl’s sleeve. Then he looked up at the 
man, and addressed Wolfenden directly. 

“ You had better precede us, sir,” he said ; “ my progress 
is unfortunately somewhat slow.” 

Wolfenden drew back dburteously. 

“We -are in no hurry,” he said. “Please go on.” 

The man thanked him, and with one hand upon the girl’s 
shoulder and with the other on his stick commenced to 
descend. The girl had passed on whhout even glancing 
towards them. She had twisted a white lace mantilla 
around her head, and her features were scarcely visible — 
only as she passed, Wolfenden received a general impression 
of rustling white silk and lace and foaming tulle as she 
gathered her skirts together at the head of the stairs. It 
seemed to him, too, that the somewhat close atmosphere of 
the vestibule had become faintly sweet with the delicate 
fragrance of the white roses which hung by a loop of satin 
from her wrist. 

The three men waited until they had reached the bend 
of the stairs before they began to descend. Harcutt then 
leaned forward. 

“His name,” he whispered, “is disenchanting. It is 
Mr. Sabin ! Whoever heard of a Mr. Sabin ? Yet he 
looks like a personage ! ” 

At the doors there was some delay. It was raining fast 
and the departures were a little congested. The three 
young men still kept in the background. Densham affected 
to be busy lighting a cigarette, Wolfenden was slow 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


i8 

ing on his gloves. His place was almost in a line with the 
girl’s. He could see the diamonds flashing in her fair hail 
through the dainty tracery of the drooping white lace, and 
in a moment, through some slight change in her position, 
he could get a better view of her face than he had been 
able to obtain even in the supper-room. She was beautiful ! 
There was no doubt about that ! But there were many 
beautiful women in London, whom Wolfenden scarcely 
pretended to admire. This girl had something better even 
than supreme beauty. She was anything but a reproduction. 
She was a new type. She had originality. Her hair was 
dazzlingly fair ; her eyebrows, deltcately arched, were high 
and distinctly dark in colour. Her head was perfectly 
shaped — the features seemed to combine a delightful 
piquancy with a somewhat statuesque regularity. Wolfen- 
den, wondering of what she in some manner reminded him, 
suddenly thought of some old French miniatures, which he 
had stopped to admire only a day or two before, in a little 
curio shop near Bond Street. There was a distinct dash 
of something foreign in her features and carriage. It might 
have been French, or Austrian — it was most certainly not 
Anglo-Saxon ! 

The crush became a little less, they all moved a step or 
two forward — and Wolfenden, glancing carelessly outside, 
found his attention immediately arrested. Just as he had 
been watching the girl, so was a man, who stood on the 
pavement side by side with the commissionaire, watching 
her companion. He was tall and thin ; apparently dressed 
in evening clothes, for though his coat was buttoned up to 
his chin, he wore an opera hat. His hands were thrust 
into the loose pockets ,of his overcoat, and his face was 
mostly in the shadows. Once, however, he followed some 
motion of Mr. Sabin’s and moved his head a little forward. 
Wolfenden started and looked at him fixedly. Was it 
fancy, or was there indeed something clenched in his right 


A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT 


19 


hand there, which gleamed like silver — or was it steel — in 
the momentary flash of a passing carriage-light ? Wolfenden 
was puzzled. There was something, too, which seemed to 
him vaguely familiar in the man’s figure and person. He 
was certainly waiting for somebody, and to judge from his 
expression his mission was no pleasant one. Wolfenden 
who, through the latter part of the evening, had felt a 
curious and unwonted sense of excitement stirring his 
blood, now felt it go tingling through all his veins. He 
had some subtle prescience that he was on the brink of an 
adventure. He glanced hurriedly at his two companions ; 
neither of them had notidhd this fresh development. 

Just then the commissionaire, who knew Wolfenden by 
sight, turned round and saw him standing there. Stepping 
back on to the pavement, he called up the brougham, which 
was waiting a little way down the street. 

“ Your carriage, my lord,” he said to Wolfenden, touching 
his cap. 

Wolfenden, with ready presence of mind, shook his head. 

“ I am waiting for a friend,” he said. “ Tell my man to 
pass on a yard or two.” 

The man bowed, and the danger of leaving before these 
two people, in whom his interest now was becoming posi- 
tively feverish, was averted. As if to enhance it, a singular 
thing now happened. The interest suddenly became 
reciprocal. At the sound of Wolfenden’s voice the man 
with the club foot had distinctly started. He changed his 
position and, leaning forward, looked eagerly at him. His 
eyes remained for a moment or two fixed steadily upon 
him. There was no doubt about the fact, singular in itself 
though it was. Wolfenden noticed it himself, so did both 
Densham and Harcutt. But before any remark could pass 
between them a little coupe brougham had drawn up, and 
the man and the girl started forward. 

Wolfenden followed close behind. The feeling which 


20 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


prompted him to do so was a curious one, but it seemed 
to him afterwards that he had even at that time a conviction 
that something unusual was about to happen. The girl 
stepped lightly across the carpeted way and entered the 
carriage. Her companion paused in the doorway to hand 
some silver to the commissionaire, then he too, leaning 
upon his stick, stepped across the pavement. His foot 
was already upon the carriage step, when suddenly what 
Wolfenden had been vaguely anticipating happened. A 
dark figure sprang from out of the shadows and seized 
him by the throat ; something that glittered like a streak of 
silver in the electric light flash'ed upwards. The blow 
would certainly have fallen but for Wolfenden. He was 
the only person not wholly unprepared for something ot 
the sort, and he was consequently not paralysed into 
inaction as were the others. He was so near, too, that a 
single step forward enabled him to seize the uplifted arm 
in a grasp of iron. The man who had been attacked was 
the next to recover himself. Raising his stick he struck at 
his assailant violently. The blow missed his head, but 
grazed his temple and fell upon his shoulder. The man, 
released from Wolfenden’s grasp by his convulsive start, 
went staggering back into the roadway. 

There was a rush then to secure him, but it was too 
late. Wolfenden, half expecting another attack, had not 
moved from the carriage door, and the commissionaire, 
although a powerful man, was not swift. Like a cat the 
man who had made the attack sprang across the roadway, 
and into the gardens which fringed the Embankment. The 
commissionaire and a loiterer followed him. Just then 
Wolfenden felt a soft touch on his shoulder. The girl 
had opened the carriage door, and was standing at his side. 

“ Is any one hurt ? ” she asked quickly. 

“ No one,” he answered. “ It is all over. The man has 
run away.” 


A DRAMA OF THE PAVEMENT 


21 


Mr. Sabin stooped down and brushed away some grey 
ash from the front of his coat. Then he took a match-box 
from his ticket-pocket, and re-lit the cigarette which had 
been crumpled in his fingers. His' hand was perfectly 
steady. The whole affair had scarcely taken thirty seconds. 

“ It was probably some lunatic,” he remarked, motioning 
to the girl to resume her place in the carriage. “ I am 
exceedingly obliged to you, sir. Lord Wolfenden, I 
believe?” he added, raising his hat. “But for your 
intervention the matter might really have been serious. 
Permit me to offer you my card. I trust that some day I 
may have a better opportunity of expressing my thanks. 
At present you will excuse me if I hurry. I am not of 
your nation, but I share an antipathy with them — I hate 
a row ! ” 

He stepped into the carriage with a farewell bow, and it 
drove off at once. Wolfenden remained looking after it, 
with his hat in his hand. From the Embankment below 
came the faint sound of hurrying footsteps. 


CHAPTER III 


THE WARNING OF FELIX 

The three friends stood upon the pavement watching the 
little brougham until it disappeared round the corner in a 
flickering glitter of light. It would have been in accord- 
ance with precedent if after leaving the restaurant they 
had gone to some one of their clubs to smoke a cigar and 
drink whisky and apollinaris, while Harcutt retailed the 
latest society gossip, and Densham descanted on art, and 
Wolfenden contributed genial remarks upon things in gen- 
eral. But to-night all three were inclined to depart from 
precedent. Perhaps the surprising incident which they 
had just witnessed made anything like normal routine 
seem unattractive ; whatever the reason may have been, 
the young men were of a sudden not in sympathy with 
one another. Harcutt murmured some conventional lie 
about having an engagement, supplemented it with some 
quite unconvincing statement about pressure of work, and 
concluded with an obviously disingenuous protest against 
the tyranny of the profession of journalism, then he sprang 
with alacrity into a hansom and said goodbye with a good 
deal less than his usual cordiality. Densham, too, hailed a 
cab, and leaning over the apron delivered himself of a 
farewell speech which sounded rather malignant. You 
are a lucky beast, Wolfenden,” he growled enviously, add- 
ing, with a note of venom in his voice, but don’t forget it 
takes more than the first game to win the rubber,” and 

22 


THE WARNING OF FELIX 


23 


then he was whirled away, nodding his head and wearing 
an expression of wisdom deeply tinged with gloom. 

Wolfenden was surprised, but not exactly sorry that the 
first vague expression of hostility had been made by the 
others. 

Both of them must be confoundedly hard hit,” he 
murmured to himself; ‘‘I never knew Densham turn nasty 
before.” And to his coachman he said aloud, ** You may 
go home, Dawson. I am going to walk.” 

He turned on to the embankment, conscious of a curious 
sense of exhilaration. He was no blas'e cynic; but the 
uniformly easy life tends to become just a trifle monoto- 
nous, and Lord Wolfenden’s somewhat epicurean mind de- 
rived actual pleasure from the subtle luxury of a new 
sensation. What he had said of his friends he could have 
said with equal truth of himself : he was confoundedly hard 
hit. For the first time in his life he found the mere 
memory of a woman thrilling ; his whole nature vibrated in 
response to the appeal she made to him, and he walked 
along buoyantly under the stars, revelling in the delight of 
being alive. 

Suddenly he stopped abruptly. Huddled up in the 
corner of a seat was a man with a cloth cap pulled forward 
screening his, face : at that moment Lord Wolfenden was 
in a mood to be extravagantly generous to any poor appli- 
cant for alms, lavishly sympathetic to any tale of distress. 
But it was not ordinary curiosity that arrested his progress 
now. He knew almost at the first glance who it was that 
sat in this dejected attitude, although the opera hat was 
replaced by the soft cloth cap, and in other details the 
man’s appearance was altered. It was indeed the Mr. 
Felix who had supped with him at the Milan and subse- 
quently behaved in so astonishing a fashion. 

He knew that he was recognised, and sat up, looking 
steadfastly at Wolfenden, although his lips trembled and 


24 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


his eyes gleamed wildly. Across his temples a bright red 
mark was scored. 

Lord Wolfenden broke the silence. 

You ’re a nice sort of fellow to ask out to supper ! 
What in the name of all that ’s wonderful were you trying 
to do?” 

I should have thought it was sufficiently obvious,” the 
man replied bitterly. “ I tried to kill him, and I failed. 
Well, why don’t you call the police? I am quite ready. 
I shall not run again.” 

Wolfenden hesitated, and then sat down by the side of 
this surprising individual. 

The man you went for did n’t seem to care, so I don’t 
see why I should. But why do you want to kill him? ” 

‘‘To keep a vow,” the other answered ; “how and why 
made I will not tell you.” 

“ How did you escape?” Wolfenden asked abruptly. 

“ Probably because I did n’t care whether I escaped or 
not,” Felix replied, with a short, bitter laugh. “ I stood 
behind some shrubs just inside the garden, and watched 
the hunt go by. Then I came out here and sat down.” 

“It all sounds very simple,” said Wolfenden, a trifle 
sarcastically. “ May I ask what you are going to do next? ” 

Felix’s face so clearly intimated that he might not ask 
anything of the kind, or that if he did his curiosity would 
not be satisfied, that Wolfenden felt compelled to make 
some apology. 

“ Forgive me if I seem inquisitive, but I find the situa- 
tion a little unusual. You were my guest, you see, and had 
it not been for my chance invitation you might not have 
met that man at all. Then again, had it not been for my 
interference he would have been dead now and you would 
have been in a fair way to be hanged.” 

Felix evinced no sign of gratitude for Wolfenden’s inter- 
vention. Instead he said intensely, 


THE WARNING OF FELIX 


25 


Oh, you fool ! you fool ! ” 

Well, really,” Wolfenden protested, I don’t see 
why ” But Felix interrupted him. 

Yes, you are a fool,” he repeated, because you saved 
his life. He is an old man now. I wonder how many 
there have been in the course of his long life who desired 
to kill him? But no one — not one solitary human being 
— has ever befriended him or come to his rescue in time 
of danger without living to be sorry for it. And so it will 
be with you. You will live to be sorry for what you 
have done to-night ; you will live to think it would have 
been far better for him to fall by my hand than for yourself 
to suffer at his. And you will wish passionately that you 
had let him die. Before heaven, Wolfenden, I swear that 
that is true.” 

The man was so much in earnest, his passion was so 
quietly intense, that Wolfenden against his will was more 
than half convinced. He was silent. He suddenly felt 
cold, and the buoyant elation of mind in which he had 
started homewards vanished, leaving him anxious and 
heavy, perhaps just a little afraid. 

I did what any man would do for any one else,” he 
said, almost apologetically. It was instinctive. As a 
matter of fact, that particular man is a perfect stranger to 
me. I have never seen him before and it is quite possible 
that I shall never see him again.” 

Felix turned quickly towards him. 

If you believe in prayer,” he said, ^^go down on your 
knees where you are and pray as you have never prayed 
for anything before that you may not see him again. 
There has never been a man or a woman yet who has not 
been the worse for knowing him. He is like the pestilence 
that walketh in the darkness, poisoning every one that is in 
the way of his horrible infection.” 

Wolfenden pulled himself together. There was no doubt 


26 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


about his companion’s earnestness, but it was the earnest- 
ness of an unbalanced mind. Language so exaggerated 
as his was out of keeping with the times and the place. 

‘‘Tell me some more about him,” he suggested. “Who 
is he?” 

“ I won’t tell you,” Felix answered, obstinately. 

“Well, •then, who is the lady? ” 

“ I don’t know. It is quite enough for me to know that 
she is his companion for the moment.” 

“ You do not intend to be communicative, I can see,” 
said Wolfenden, after a brief pause, “ but I wish I could 
persuade you to tell me why you attempted his life 
to-night.” 

“ There was the opportunity,” said Felix, as if that in 
itself were sufficient explanation. Then he smiled enig- 
matically. “ There are at least three distinct and separate 
reasons why I should take his life, — all of them good. 
Three, I mean, why I should do it. But I have not been 
his only victim. There are plenty of others who have a 
heavy reckoning against him, and he knows what it is to 
carry his life in his hand. But he bears a charmed exist- 
ence. Did you'^see his stick? ” 

“Yes,” said Wolfenden, “I did. It had a peculiar 
stone in the handle ; the electric light it looked like a 
huge green opal.” 

Felix assented moodily. 

“ That is it. 4e sihick me with a stick. He would 
not part with it f^ anything. It was given him by some 
Indian fakir, and it is said that while he carries it he is 
proof against attack.” 

“Who says so?” Wolfenden inquired. 

“ Never mind,” said Felix. “ It ’s enough that it is 
said.” He relapsed into silence, and when he next spoke 
his manner was different. His excited vehemence had 
gone and there was nothing in his voice or demeanour in- 


THE WARNING OF FELIX 


27 


consistent with normal sanity. Yet his words were no less 
charged with deep intention. ** I do not know much about 
you, Lord Wolfenden,” he said ; but I beg you to take 
the advice I am offering you. No one ever gave you better 
in your life. Avoid that man as you would avoid the plague. 
Go away before he looks you up to thank you fOr what you 
did. Go abroad, anywhere ; the farther the better ; and 
stay away for ever, if that is the only means of escaping his 
friendship or even his acquaintance.” 

Lord Wolfenden shook his head. 

I ’m a very ordinary, matter of fact Englishman,” he 
said, leading a very ordinary, matter of fact life, and you 
must forgive me if I consider such a sweeping condemna- 
tion a little extravagant and fantastic. I have no particular 
enemies on my conscience, I am implicated in no conspir- 
acy, and I am, in short, an individual of very little impor- 
tance. Consequently I have nothing to fear from anybody 
and am afraid of nobody. This man cannot have anything 
to gain by injuring me. I believe you said you did not 
know the lady?” 

‘^The lady?” Felix repeated. do isoot know 

her, nor anything of her beyond the fact'that sne is with 
him for the time being. That is quit^ sufficient for 
me.” # ’ ^ 

Wolfenden got up. 

Thanks,” he said lazily. oja^^^sketi you for facts. 
As for your suggestion — you will be well advised not to 
repeat it.” 

^‘Oh!” exclaimed Felix, scornfully, **how blind and 
pig-headed you English people are ! I have told you 
something of the man’s reputation. What can hers be, do 
you suppose, if she will sup alone with him in a public 
restaurant? ” 

Good-riight,” said Wolfenden. I will not listen to 
another word.” 


28 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Felix rose to his feet and laid his hand upon Lord 
Wolfenden’s arm. 

Lord Wolfenden,” he said, you are a very decent 
fellow : do try to believe that I am only speaking for your 
good. That girl ” 

Wolfenden shook him off. 

If you allude to that young lady, either directly or in- 
directly,” he said very calmly, I shall throw you into the 
river.” 

Felix shrugged his shoulders. 

• ^^At least remember that I warned you,” was all he ven- 
tured to say as Lord Wolfenden strode away. 

***** 

Leaving the embankment Wolfenden walked quickly to 
Half Moon Street, where his chambers were. His servant 
let him in and took his coat. There was an anxious ex- 
pression upon his usually passive face and he appeared to 
be rather at a loss for words in which to communicate his 
news. At last he got it out, accompanying the question 
with a nervous and deprecating cough. 

I beg your pardon, my lord, but were you expecting a 
young lady?” 

*‘A what, Selby?” Wolfenden exclaimed, looking at him 
in ama^emen^ 

A lady, m^ord : a young lady.” 

^lOf course not,” said Wolfenden, with a frown. What 
on eam?*&o you mean?” 

Selby gathered courage. 

‘^A young lady called here about an hour ago, and asked 
for you. Johnson informed her that you might be home 
shortly, and she said she would wait. Johnson, perhaps 
imprudently, admitted her, and she is in the study, my 
lord.” 

A young lady in my study at this time of night ! ” 
Wolfenden exclaimed, incredulously. Who is she, and 


29 




THE WARNING OF FELIX 

what is she, and why has she come at all? Have you gone 
mad, Selby ? ” 

**Then you were not expecting her?” the man said, 
anxiously. She gave no name, but she assured Johnson 
that you did.” 

You are a couple of idiots,” Wolfenden said angrily. 

Of course I was n’t expecting her. Surely both you and 
Johnson have been in my service long enough to know me 
better than that.” 

** I am exceedingly sorry, my lord,” the man said 
abjectly. But the young lady’s appearance misled^us 
both. If you will allow me to say so, my^rd, I am quite 
sure that she is a lady. No doubt there is some mistake ; 
but when you see her I think you will exonerate Johnson 
and me from ” 

His master cut his protestations short. 

Wait where you are until I ring,” he said. It never 
entered my head that you could be such an incredible 
idiot.” 

He strode into the study, closing the door behind him, 
and Selby obediently waited for the bell. But a long 
time passed before the summons came. 





CHAPTER IV 


AT THE RUSSIAN AMBASSADOR’S 

The brougham containing the man who had figured in the 
“ Milan ” table list as Mr. Sabin, and his companion, turned 
into the Strand and proceeded westwards. Close behind 
it came Harcutt’s private cab — only a few yards away fol- 
lowed Densham’s hansom. The procession continued 
in the same order, skirting Trafalgar Square and along 
Pall Mall. 

Each in a different manner, the three men were perhaps 
equally interested in these people. Geoffrey Densham was 
attracted as an artist by the extreme and rare “Ijeauty of the 
girl. Wolfenden’s interest was at once more sentimental 
and more personal. Harcutt’s arose partly out of curiosity, 
partly from innate love of adventure. Both Densham and 
Harcutt were exceedingly interested as to their probable 
destination. From it they would be able to gather some 
idea as to the status and social position of Mr. Sabin and 
his companion. Both were perhaps a little surprised when 
Jthe brougham, which had been making its way into the 
heart of fashionable London, turned into Belgrave Square 
and pulled up before a great, porticoed house, brilliantly lit, 
and with a crimson drugget and covered way stretched out 
across the pavement. Harcutt sprang out first, just in time 
to see the two pass through the opened doorway, the man 
leaning heavily upon his stick, the girl, with her daintily 
gloved fingers just resting upon his coat-sleeve, walking with 

SQ 


AT THE kUSSIAN AMBASSADOk’S 31 

that uncommon and graceful self-possession which had so 
attracted Densham during her passage through the supper- 
room at the “ Milan ” a short while ago. 

Harcutt looked after them, watching them disappear with 
a frown upon his forehead. 

“ Rather a sell, isn’t it ? ” said a quiet voice in his ear. 

He turned abruptly round. Densham was standing upon 
the pavement by his side. 

“ Great Scott ! ” he exclaimed testily. “ What are you 
doing here ? ” 

Densham threw away his cigarette and laughed. 

“ I might return the question, I suppose,” he remarked. 

“ We both followed the young lady and her imaginary 
papa ! We were both anxious to find out where they lived 
— and we are both sold ! ” 

“Very badly sold,” Harcutt admitted. “What do you 
propose to do now? We can’t wait outside here for an 
hour or two ! ” 

Densham hesitated. 

“No, we can’t do that,” he said. “Have you any 
plan?” 

Harcutt shook his head. 

“ Can’t say that I have.” 

They were both silent for a moment. Densham was 
smiling softly to himself. Watching him, Harcutt became 
quite assured that he had decided what to do. 

“Let us consider the matter together,” he suggested, 
diplomatically. “We ought to be able to hit upon some-^ 
thing.” 

Densham shook his head doubtfully. 

“No,” he said; “I don’t think that we can run this 
thing in double harness. You see our interests are 
materially opposed.” 

Harcutt did not see it in the same light. 

“ Pooh ! We can travel together by the same road,” h^ 


32 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


protested. “ The time to part company has not come yet. 
Wolfenden has got a bit ahead of us to-night. After all, 
though, you and I may pull level, if we help one another. 
Vou have a plan, I can see ! What is it ? ” 

Densham was silent for a moment. 

“You know whose house this is?” he asked. 

Harcutt nodded. 

“ Of course ! It’s the Russian Ambassador’s ! ” 

Densham drew a square card from his pocket, and held 
it out under the gas-light. From it, it appeared that the 
Princess Lobenski desired the honour of his company at 
any time that evening between twelve and two. 

“A card for to-night, by Jove !” Harcutt exclaimed. 
Densham nodded, and replaced it in his pocket. 

“You see, Harcutt,” he said, “I am bound to take an 
advantage over yon ! I only got this card by an accident, 
and I certainly do not know the Princess well enough to 
present you. I shall be compelled to leave you here ! All 
that I can promise is, that if I discover anything interesting 
I will let you know about it to-morrow. Good-night ! ” 
Harcutt watched him disappear through the open doors, 
and then walked a little way along the pavement, swearing 
softly to himself. His first idea was to wait about until they 
came out, and then follow them again. By that means he 
would at least be sure of their address. He would have 
gained something for his time and trouble. He lit a 
cigarette, and walked slowly to the corner of the street. 
Then he turned back and retraced his steps. As he 
neared the crimson strip of drugget, one of the servants 
drew respectfully a^e, as thou^ expecting him to enter. 
The man’s action was like an inspiration to him. He 
glanced down the vista of covered roof. A crowd of 
people were making their way ujp;*^he broad staircase, and 
amongst them Densham. After all^hy not ? He laughed 
softly to himself and hesitated no l^ger. He threw away 


AT THE RUSSIAN AMBASSADOR'S 


33 


his cigarette and walked boldly in. He was doing a thing 
for which he well knew that he deserved to be kicked. At 
the same time, he had made up his mind *to go through 
with it, and he was not the man to fail through nervousness 
or want of savoir faire. 

At the cloak-room the multitude of men inspired him 
with new confidence. There were some, a very fair 
sprinkling, whom he knew, and who greeted him indif- 
ferently, without appearing in any way to regard his pre- 
sence as a thing out of the common. He walked up the 
staircase, one of a little group ; but as they passed through 
the ante room to where in the distance Prince and Princess 
Lobenski were standing to receive their guests, Harcutt 
adroitly disengaged himself — he affected to pause for a 
moment or two to speak to an acquaintance. When he 
was left alone, he turned sharp to the right and entered 
the main dancing-salon. 

He was quite safe now, and his spirits began to rise. 
Yonder was Densham, looking very bored, dancing with 
a girl in yellow. So far at least he had gained no advan- 
tage. He looked everywhere in vain, however, for a man 
with a club foot and the girl in white and diamonds. They 
must be in one of the inner rooms. He began to make 
a little tour. 

Two of the ante-chambers he explored without result. 
In the third, two men were standing near the entrance, 
talking. Harcutt almost held his breath as he came to an 
abrupt stop within a yard or two of them. One was the man 
for whom he had been looking, the other — Harcutt seemed 



familiar, but for the moment 


he could not identify him. He was tall, with white hair 
and moustaches. His coat was covered with foreign orders, 
and he wore English court dress. His hands were clasped 
behind his back ; he \^s talking in a low, clear tone, stoop- 
ing a little, and with ^es steadfastly fixed upon his com- 

3 


34 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


panion. Mr. Sabin was leaning a little forward, with both 
hands resting upon his stick. Harcutt was struck at once 
with the singular immobility of his face. He did not appear 
either interested or amused or acquiescent. He was simply 
listening. A few words from the other man came to 
Harcutt’s ears, as he lingered there on the other side of 
the curtain. 

“ If it were money — a question of monetary recompense — 
the secret service purse of my country opens easily, and it 
is well filled. If it were anything less simple, the proposal 
could but be made. I am taking the thing, you under- 
stand, at your own computation of its worth ! I am taking 
it for granted that it carries with it the power you claim for 
it. Assuming these things, I am prepared to treat with you. 
I am going on leave very shortly, and I could myself con- 
duct the negotiations.” 

Harcutt would have moved away, but he was absolutely 
powerless. Naturally, and from his journalistic instincts, 
he was one of the most curious of men. He had recognised 
the speaker. The interview was pregnant with possibilities. 
Who was this Mr. Sabin, that so great a man should talk 
with him so earnestly? He was looking up now, he was 
going to speak. What was he going to say ? Harcutt held 
his breath. The idea of moving away never occurred to 
him now. 

“Yet,” Mr. Sabin said slowly, “your country should be 
a low bidder. The importance of such a thing to you must 
be less than to France, less than to her great ally. Your 
relations here are close and friendly. Nature and destiny 
seemed to have made you allies. As yet there has been no 
rift — no sign of a rift.” 

“You are right,” the other man answered slowly; “and 
yet who can tell what lies before us? In less than a dozen 
years the face of all Europe may be changed. The policy 
of a great nation is, to all appearance, a steadfast thing. On 


AT THE RUSSIAN AMBASSADOR'S 


35 


the face of it, it continues the same, age after age. Yet if 
a change is to come, it comes from within. It develops 
slowly. It grows from within, outwards, very slowly, like 
a secret thing. Do you follow me ? ” 

“I think — perhaps I do,” Mr. Sabin admitted de- 
liberately. 

The Ambassador’s voice dropped almost to a whisper, 
and but for its singularly penetrating quality Harcutt 
would have heard no more. As it was, he had almost 
to hold his breath, and all his nerves quivered with the 
tension of listening. 

“ Even the Press is deceived. The inspired organs pur- 
posely mislead. Outside to all the world there seems to be 
nothing brewing ; yet, when the storm bursts, one sees that 
it has been long in gathering — that years of careful study and 
thought have been given to that hidden triumph of diplo- 
macy. All has been locked in the breasts of a few. The 
thing is full-fledged when it is hatched upon the world. It 
has grown strong in darkness. You understand me ? ” 

“ Yes; I think that I understand you,” Mr. Sabin said, his 
piercing eyes raised now from the ground and fixed upon 
the other man’s face. “You have given me food for serious 
thought. I shall do nothing further till I have talked with 
you again.” 

Harcutt suddenly and swiftly withdrew. He had stayed 
as long as he dared. At any moment his presence might 
have been detected, and he would have been involved in 
a situation which even the nerve and effrontery acquired 
during the practice of his profession could not have rendered 
endurable. He found a seat in an adjoining room, and sat 
quite still, thinking. His brain was in a whirl. He had 
almost forgotten the special object of his quest. He felt 
like a conspirator. The fascination of the unknown was 
upon him. Their first instinct concerning these people had 
been a true one» They were indeed no ordinary people. 


36 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


He must follow them up — he must know more about them. 
Once more he thought over what he had heard. It was 
mysterious, but it was interesting. It might mean anything. 
The man with Mr. Sabin he had recognised the moment 
he spoke. It was Baron von Knigenstein, the German 
Ambassador. Those were strange words of his. He 
pondered them over again. The journalistic fever was 
upon him. He was no longer in love. He had over- 
heard a few words of a discussion of tremendous import. 
If only he could get the key to it ! If only he could 
follow this thing through, then farewell to society para- 
graphing and playing at journalism. His reputation would 
be made for ever ! 

He rose, and finding his way to the refreshment-room, 
drank off a glass of champagne. Then he walked back to 
the main salon. Standing with his back to the wall, and 
half-hidden by a tall palm tree, was Densham. He was 
alone. His arms were folded, and he was looking out 
upon the dancers with a gloomy frown. Harcutt stepped 
softly up to him. 

“ Well, how are you getting on, old chap ? ” he whispered 
in his ear. 

Densham started, and looked at Harcutt in blank sur- 
prise. 

“ Why, how the — excuse me, how on earth did you get 
in ? ” he exclaimed. 

Harcutt smiled in a mysterious manner. 

“ Oh ! we journalists are trained to overcome small diffi- 
culties,” he said airily. “ It wasn’t a very hard task. The 
Morning is a pretty good passport. Getting in was easy 
enough. Where is — she ? ” 

Densham moved his head in the direction of the broad 
space at the head of the stairs, where the Ambassador and 
his wife had received their guests. 

She is under the special wing of the Princess. She is 


AT THE RUSSIAN AMBASSADOR’S 


37 


up at that end of the room somewhere with a lot of old 
frumps.” 

“ Have you asked for an introduction ? ” 

Densham nodded. 

“ Yes, I asked young Lobenski. It is no good. He 
does not know who she is ; but she does not dance, and 
is not allowed to make acquaintances. That is what it 
comes to, anyway. It was not a personal matter at all. 
Lobenski did not even mention my name to his mother. 
He simply said a friend. The Princess replied that she was 
very sorry, but there was some difficulty. The young lady’s 
guardian did not wish her to make acquaintances for the 
present.” 

“ Her guardian ! He’s not her father, then ? ” 

“ No ! It was either her guardian or her uncle ! I am 
not sure which. By Jove ! There they go ! They’re off.” 

They both hurried to the cloak-room for their coats, and 
reached the street in time to see the people in whom they 
were so interested coming down the stairs towards them. 
In the glare of the electric light, the girl’s pale, upraised 
face shone like a piece of delicate statuary. To Densham, 
the artist, she was irresistible. He drew Harcutt right back 
amongst the shadows. 

“ She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in 
my life,” he said deliberately. “Titian never conceived 
anything more exquisite. She is a woman to paint and to 
worship ! ” 

“ What are you going to do now ? ” Harcutt asked drily. 
“ You can rave about her in your studio, if you like.” 

“ I am going to find out where she lives, if I have to 
follow her home on foot ! It will be something to know 
that.” 

“ Two of us,” Harcutt protested. “ It is too obvious.” 

“ I can’t help that,” Densham replied. “ I do not sleep 
until I have found out.” 


38 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Harcutt looked dubious. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ we need not both go ! I will 
leave it to you on one condition.” 

“Well?” 

“You must let me know to-morrow what you discover.” 

• Densham hesitated. 

“ Agreed,” he decided. “ There they go ! Good-night. 
I will call at your rooms, or send a note, to-morrow.” 

Densham jumped into his cab and drove away. Harcutt 
looked after them thoughtfully. 

“ The girl is very lovely,” he said to himself, as he stood 
on the pavement waiting for his carriage ; “ but I do not 
think that she is for you, Densham, or for me ! On the 
whole, I am more interested in the man ! ” 


CHAPTER V 


THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN 

WoLFENDEN was evidently absolutely unprepared to see the 
girl whom he found occupying his own particular easy chair 
in his study. The light was only a dim one, and as she did 
not move or turn round at his entrance he did not recognise 
her until he was standing on the hearthrug by her side. 
Then he started with a little exclamation. 

“ Miss Merton ! Why, what on earth ” 

He stopped in the middle of his question and looked 
intently at her. Her head was thrown back amongst the 
cushions of the chair, and she was fast asleep. Her hat 
was a little crushed and a little curl of fair hair had escaped 
and was hanging down over her forehead. There were 
undoubtedly tear stains upon her pretty face. Her plain, 
black jacket was half undone, and the gloves which she had 
taken off lay in her lap. Wolfenden’s anger subsided at 
once. No wonder Selby had been perplexed. But Selby’s 
perplexity was nothing to his own. 

She woke up suddenly and saw him standing there, traces 
of his amazement still lingering on his face. She looked at 
him, half-frightened, half-wistfully. The colour came and 
went in her cheeks — her eyes grew soft with tears. He 
felt himself a brute. Surely it was not possible that she 
could be acting ! He spoke to her more kindly than he 
had intended. 

“ What on earth has brought you up to town — and here 

39 


40 


MY^STERIOUS MR. SABIN 


— at this time of night? Is anything wrong at Dering- 
ham ? ” 

She sat up in the chair and looked at him with quivering 
lips. 

“ N — no, nothing particular ; only I have left.” 

“ You have left ! ” 

“ Yes ; I have been turned away,” she added, piteously. 

He looked at her blankly. 

“ Turned away ! Why, what for ? Do you mean to say 
that you have left for good ? ” 

She nodded, and commenced to dry her eyes with a little 
lace handkerchief. 

“ Yes — your mother — Lady Deringham has been very 
horrid — as though the silly papers were of any use to me or 
any one else in the world ! I have not copied them. I 
am not deceitful ! It is all an excuse to get rid of me 
because of — of you.” 

She looked up at him and suddenly dropped her eyes. 
Wolfenden began to see some glimmerings of light. He 
was still, however, bewildered. 

“Look here,” he said kindly, “why you are here I 
cannot for the life of me imagine, but you had better just 
tell me all about it.” 

She rose up suddenly and caught her gloves from the 
table. 

“ I think I will go away,” she said. “ I was very stupid 
to come ; please forget it and Goodbye.” 

He caught her by the wrist as she passed. 

“ Nonsense,” he exclaimed, “you mustn’t go like this.” 

She looked steadfastly away from him and tried to with- 
draw her arm. 

“You are angry with me for coming,” she said. “I am 
very, very sorry ; I will go away. Please don’t stop me.” 

He held her wrist firmly. 

“ Miss Merton ! ” 


THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN 


41 


“ Miss Merton ! ” She repeated his words reproachfully, 
lifting her eyes suddenly to his, that he might see the tears 
gathering there. Wolfenden began to feel exceedingly 
uncomfortable. 

“ Well, Blanche, then,” he said slowly. “ Is that better ? ” 

She answered nothing, but looked at him again. Her 
hand remained in his. She suffered him to lead her back 
to the chair. 

“ It’s all nonsense your going away, you know,” he said 
a little awkwardly. “You can’t wonder that I am sur- 
prised. Perhaps you don’t know that it is a little late — 
after midnight, in fact. Where should you go to if you ran 
away like that ? Do you know any one in London ? ” 

“ I — don’t think so,” she admitted. 

“Well, do be reasonable then. First of all tell me all 
about it.” 

She nodded, and began at once, now and then lifting 
her eyes to his, mostly gazing fixedly at the gloves which 
she was smoothing carefully out upon her knee. 

“I think,” she said, “that Lord Deringham is not so 
well. What he has been writing has become more and 
more incoherent, and it has been very difficult to copy it at 
all. I have done my best but he has never seemed satis- 
fied ; and he has taken to watch me in an odd sort of way, 
just as though I was doing something wrong all the time. 
You know he fancies that the work he is putting together 
is of immense importance. Of course I don’t know that it 
isn’t. All I do know is that it sounds and reads like abso- 
lute rubbish, and it’s awfully difficult to copy. He writes 
very quickly and uses all manner of abbreviations, and if I 
make a single mistake in typing it he gets horribly cross.” 

Wolfenden laughed softly. 

“ Poor little girl ! Go on.” 

She smiled too, and continued with less constraint in her 
tone. 


42 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ I didn’t really mind that so much, as of course I have 
been getting a lot of money for the work, and one can’t 
have everything. But just lately he seems to have got the 
idea that I have been making two copies of this rubbish 
and keeping one back. He has kept on coming into the 
room unexpectedly, and has sat for hours watching me in 
a most unpleasant manner. I have not been allowed to 
leave the house, and all my letters have been looked over ; 
it has been perfectly horrid.” 

“I am very sorry,” Wolfenden said. “Of course you 
knew though that it was going to be rather difficult to 
please my father, didn’t you ? The doctors differ a little 
as to his precise mental condition, but we are all aware that 
he is at any rate a trifle peculiar.” 

She smiled a little bitterly. 

“ Oh ! I am not complaining,” she said. “ I should have 
stood it somehow for the sake of the money ; but I haven’t 
told you everything yet. The worst part, so far as I am 
concerned, is to come.” 

“ I am very sorry,” he said ; “ please go on.” 

“This morning your father came very early into the 
study and found a sheet of carbon paper on my desk and 
two copies of one page of the work I was doing. As a 
matter of fact I had never used it before, but I wanted to 
try it for practice. There was no harm in it — I should 
have destroyed the second sheet in a minute or two, and in 
any case it was so badly done that it was absolutely worth- 
less. But directly Lord Deringham saw it he went quite 
white, and I thought he was going to have a fit. I can’t 
tell you all he said. He was brutal. The end of it was 
that my boxes were all turned out and my desk and every- 
thing belonging to me searched as though I were a house- 
maid suspected of theft, and all the time I was kept locked 
up. When they had finished, I was told to put my hat on 
and go. I— I had nowhere to go to, for Muriel — you 


THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN 


43 


remember I told you about my sister — went to America 
last week. I hadn’t the least idea what to do — and so — I 
— you were the only person who had ever been kind to 
me,” she concluded, suddenly leaning over towards him, a 
little sob in her throat, and her eyes swimming with tears. 

There are certain situations in life when an honest man 
is at an obvious disadvantage. Wolfenden felt awkward 
and desperately ill at ease. He evaded the embrace which 
her movement and eyes had palpably invited, and com- 
promised matters by taking her hands and holding them 
tightly in his. Even then he felt far from comfortable. 

“But my mother,” he exclaimed. “Lady Deringham 
surely took your part ? ” 

She shook her head vigorously. 

“ Lady Deringham did nothing of the sort,” she replied. 
“Do you remember last time when you were down you 
took me for a walk once or twice and you talked to me in 
the evenings, and — but perhaps you have forgotten. Have 
you ? ” 

She was looking at him so eagerly that there was only 
one answer possible for him. He hastened to make it. 
There was a certain lack of enthusiasm in his avowal, 
however, which brought a look of reproach into her face. 
She sighed and looked away into the fire. 

“Well,” she continued, “Lady Deringham has never 
been the same since then to me. It didn’t matter while 
you were there, but after you left it was very wretched. I 
wrote to you, but you never answered my letter.” 

He was very well aware of it. He had never asked her 
to write, and her note had seemed to him a trifle too 
ingenuous. He had never meant to answer it. 

“ I so seldom write letters,” he said. “ I thought, too, 
that it must have been your fancy. My mother is generally 
considered a very good-hearted woman.” 

She laughed bitterly. 


44 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“Oh, one does not fancy those things,” she said 
“ Lady Deringham has been coldly civil to me evei 
since, and nothing more. This morning she seemed abso- 
lutely pleased to have an excuse for sending me away. 
She knows quite well, of course, that Lord Deringham 
is — not himself; but she took everything he said for 
gospel, and turned me out of the house. There, now 
you know everything. Perhaps after all it was idiotic to 
come to you. Well, I’m only a girl, and girls are idiots ; 

I haven’t a friend in the world, and if I were alone I should 
die of loneliness in a week. You won’t send me away ? 
You are not angry with me ? ” 

She made a movement towards him, but he held her 
hands tightly. For the first time he began to see his way 
before him. A certain ingenuousness in her speech and in 
that little half-forgotten note — an ingenuousness, by the bye, 
of which he had some doubts — was his salvation. He 
would accept it as absolutely genuine. She was a child 
who had come to him, because he had been kind to her. 

“ Of course I am not angry with you,” he said, quite 
emphatically. “ I am very glad indeed that you came. It 
is only right that I should help you when my people seem 
to have treated you so wretchedly. Let me think for a 
moment.” 

She watched him very anxiously, and moved a little * 
closer to him. 

“Tell me,” she murmured, “ what are you thinking 
about ? ” 

“I have it,” he answered, standing suddenly up and 
touching the bell. “ It is an excellent idea.” 

“ What is it ? ” she asked quickly. 

He did not appear to hear her question. Selby was 
standing upon the threshold. Wolfenden spoke to him. 

“ Selby, are your wife’s rooms still vacant ? ” 

Selby believed that they were. 


THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN 


45 

“That’s all right then. Put on your hat and coat at 
once. I want you to take this young lady round there.” 

“Very good, my lord.” 

“Her luggage has been lost and may not arrive until 
to-morrow. Be sure you tell Mrs. Selby to do all in her 
power to make things comfortable.” 

The girl had gone very pale. Wolfenden, watching her 
closely, was surprised at her expression. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that you will find Mrs. Selby a 
very decent sort of a person. If I may, I will come and 
see you to-morrow, and you shall tell me how I can help 
you. I am very glad indeed that you came to me.” 

She shot a single glance at him, partly of anger, partly 
reproach. 

“ You are very, very kind,” she said slowly, “ and very 
considerate,” she added, after a moment’s pause. “ I shall 
not forget it.” 

She looked him then straight in the eyes. He was more 
glad than he would have liked to confess even to himself to 
hear Selby’s knock at the door. 

“ You have nothing to thank me for yet at any rate,” he 
said, taking her hand. “ I shall be only too glad if you will 
let me be of service to you.” 

He led her out to the carriage and watched it drive away, 
with Selby on the box seat. Her last glance, as she leaned 
back amongst the cushions, was a tender one ; her lips were 
quivering, and her little fingers more than returned his pres- 
sure. But Wolfenden walked back to his study with all the 
pleasurable feelings of a man who has extricated himself 
with tact from an awkward situation. 

“ The frankness,” he remarked to himself, as he lit a pipe 
and stretched himself out for a final smoke, “ was a trifle, 
just a trifle, overdone. She gave the whole show away with 
that last glance. I should like very much to know what 
it all means,” 


CHAPTER VI 


A COMPACT OF THREE 

WoLFENDEN, for an idler, was a young man of fairly precise 
habits. By ten o’clock next morning he had breakfasted, 
and before eleven he was riding in the Park. Perhaps he 
had some faint hope of seeing there something of the two 
people in whom he was now greatly interested. If so he 
was certainly disappointed. He looked with a new curiosity 
into the faces of the girls who galloped past him, and he 
was careful even to take particular notice of the few prome- 
naders. But he did not see anything of Mr. Sabin or his 
companion. 

At twelve o’clock he returned to his rooms and exchanged 
his riding-clothes for the ordinary garb of the West End. 
He even looked on his hall-table as he passed out again, 
to see if there were any note or card for him. 

“ He could scarcely look me up just yet, at any rate,” he 
reflected, as he walked slowly along Piccadilly, “ for he did 
not even ask me for my address. He took the whole 
thing so coolly that perhaps he does not mean even to 
call.” 

Nevertheless, he looked in the rack at his club to see if 
there was anything against his name, and tore into pieces 
the few unimportant notes he found there, with an impa- 
tience which they scarcely deserved. Of the few acquaint- 
ances whom he met there, he inquired casually whether 
they knew anything of a man named “Sabin.” No one 

4 ^ 


A COMPACT OF THREE 


47 


seemed to have heard the name before. He even con- 
sulted a directory in the hall, but without success. At one 
o’clock, in a fit of restlessness, he went out, and taking a 
hansom drove over to Westminster, to Harcutt’s rooms. 
Harcutt was in, and with him Densham. At Wolfenden’s 
entrance the three men looked at one another, and there 
was a simultaneous laugh. 

“ Here comes the hero,” Densham remarked. “ He will 
be able to tell us everything.” 

“I came to gather information, not to impart it,” Wol- 
fenden answered, selecting a cigarette, and taking an easy 
chair. “ I know precisely as much as I knew last night.” 

“ Mr. Sabin has not been to pour out his gratitude yet, 
then ? ” Densham asked. 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ Not yet. On the whole, I am inclined to think that 
he will not come at all. He doubtless considers that he 
has done all that is necessary in the way of thanks. He 
did not even ask for my card, and giving me his was only 
a matter of form, for there was no address upon it.” 

“ But he knew your name,” Harcutt reminded him. “ I 
noticed that.” 

“Yes. I suppose he could find me if he wished to,” 
Wolfenden admitted. “ If he had been very keen about it, 
though, I should think he would have said something more. 
His one idea seemed to be to get away before there was a 
row.” 

“ I do not think,” Harcutt said, “ that you will find him 
overburdened with gratitude. He does not seem that sort 
of man.” 

“I do not want any gratitude from him,” Wolfenden 
answered, deliberately. “ So far as the man himself is con- 
cerned I should rather prefer never to see him again. By 
the bye, did either of you fellows follow them home last 


48 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Harcutt and Densham exchanged quick glances. Wol- 
fenden had asked his question quietly, but it was evidently 
what he had come to know. 

“ Yes,” Harcutt said, “ we both did. They are evidently 
people of some consequence. They went first to the house 
of the Russian Ambassador, Prince Lobenski.” 

Wolfenden swore to himself softly. He could have been 
there. He made a mental note to leave a card at the 
Embassy that afternoon. 

“ And afterwards ? ” 

“ Afterwards they drove to a house in Chilton Gardens, 
Kensington, where they remained.” 

*‘The presumption being, then ” Wolfenden began. 

“ That they live there,” Harcutt put in. “ In fact, I may 
say that we ascertained that definitely. The man’s name is 
* Sabin,’ and the girl is reputed to be his niece. Now you 
know as much as we do. The relationship, however, is 
little more than a surmise.” 

“Did either of you go to the reception?” Wolfenden 
asked. 

“ We both did,” Harcutt answered. 

Wolfenden raised his eyebrows. 

“You were there! Then why didn’t you make their 
acquaintance ? ” 

Densham laughed shortly. 

“I asked for an introduction to the girl,” he said, “and 
was politely declined. She was under the special charge of 
the Princess, and was presented to no one.” 

“And Mr. Sabin?” Wolfenden asked. 

“He was talking all the time to Baron von Knigen- 
stein, the German Ambassador. They did not stay 
long.” 

Wolfenden smiled. 

“ It seems to rrie,” he said, “ that you had an excellent 
opportunity and let it go.” 


A COMPACT OF THREE 


49 

Harcutt threw his cigarette into the fire with an impatient 
gesture. 

“You may think so,” he said. “All I can say is, that if 
you had been there yourself, you could have done no more. 
At any rate, we have no particular difficulty now in finding 
out who this mysterious Mr. Sabin and the girl are. We 
may assume that there is a relationship,” he added, “or 
they would scarcely have been at the Embassy, where, as a 
rule, the guests make up in respectability what' they lack in 
brilliancy.” 

“As to the relationship,” Wolfenden said, “I am quite pre- 
pared to take that for granted. I, for one, never doubted it.” 

“ That,” Harcutt remarked, “ is because you are young, 
and a little quixotic. When you have lived as long as I 
have you will doubt everything. You will take nothing for 
granted unless you desire to live for ever amongst the ruins 
of your shattered enthusiasms. If you are wise, you will 
always assume that your swans are geese until you have 
proved them to be swans.” 

“That is very cheap cynicism,” Wolfenden remarked 
equably. “I am surprised at you, Harcutt. I thought 
that you were more in touch with the times. Don’t you 
know that to-day nobody is cynical except schoolboys and 
dyspeptics? Pessimism went out with sack overcoats. 
Your remarks remind me of the morning odour of 
patchouli and stale smoke in a cheap Quartier Latin dancing- 
room. To be in the fashion of to-day, you must cultivate 
a gentle, almost arcadian enthusiasm, you must wear rose- 
coloured spectacles and pretend that you like them. 
Didn’t you hear what Flaskett said last week ? There is an 
epidemic of morality in the air. We are all going to be 
very good.” 

“Some of us,” Densham remarked, “are going to be 
very uncomfortable, then.” 

“Great changes always bring small discomforts,” Wol- 

4 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


Sd 

fenden rejoined. “ But after all I didn’t come here t* talk 
noi-keense. I came to ask you both something. I want to 
know whether you fellows are bent upon seeing this thing 
through ? ” 

Densham and Harcutt exchanged glances. There was a 
moment’s silence. Densham became spokesman. 

“ So far as finding out who they are and all about them,” 
he said, “ I shall not rest until I have done it.” 

“ And you, Harcutt ? ” 

Harcutt nodded gravely. 

I am with Densham,” he said. “ At the same time I 
may as well tell you that I am quite as much, if not more, 
interested in the man than in the girl. The girl is beautiful, 
and of course I admire her, as every one must. But that is 
all. The man appeals to my journalistic instincts. There 
is copy in him. I am convinced that he is a personage. 
You may, in fact, regard me, both of you, as an ally rather 
than as a rival.” 

“If you had your choice, then, of an hour’s conversa- 
tion with either of them ” Wolfenden began. 

“ I should choose the man without a second’s hesitation,” 
Harcutt declared. “ The girl is lovely enough, I admit. I 
do not wonder at you fellows — Densham, who is a wor- 
shipper of beauty ; you, Wolfenden, who are an idler — being 
struck with her ! But as regards myself it is different. 
The man appeals to my professional instincts in very much 
the same way as the girl appeals to the artistic sense in 
Densham. He is a conundrum which I have set myself to 
solve.”:. 

Wolfenden rose to his feet. 

“ Look here, you fellows,” he said, “ I have a proposition 
to make. We are all three in the same boat. Shall we pull 
together or separately ? ” 

Harcutt dropped his eyeglass and smiled quietly. 

“Quixotic as usual. Wolf, old chap,” he said. “We 


A COMPACT OF THREE 


5 * 


can't, our interests are opposed ; at least yours and Dens- 
ham’s are. You will scarcely want to help one another 
under the circumstances.” 

Wolfenden drew on his gloves. 

“ I have not explained myself yet,” he said. “ The thing 
must have its limitations, of course, but for a step or two 
even Densham and I can walk together. Let us form an 
alliance so far as direct information is concerned. After- 
wards it must be every man for himself, of course. I 
suppose we each have some idea as to how and where to 
set about making inquiries concerning these people. Very 
well. Let us each go our own way and share up the 
information to-night.” 

“ I am quite willing,” Densham said, “ only let this be 
distinctly understood — we are allies only so far as the collec- 
tion and sharing of information is concerned. Afterwards, 
and in other ways, it is each man for himself. If one of us 
succeeds in establishing a definite acquaintance with them, 
the thing ends. There is no need for either of us to do 
anything with regard to the others, which might militate 
against his own chances.” 

“ I am agreeable to that,” Harcutt said. “ From Den- 
sham’s very elaborate provisoes I think we may gather that 
he has a plan.” 

“ I agree too,” Wolfenden said, “ and I specially endorse 
Densham’s limit. It is an alliance so far as regards in- 
formation only. Suppose we go and have some lunch 
together now.” 

“I never lunch out, and I have a better ideaf’ said 
Harcutt. “ Let us meet at the ‘ Milan ’ to-night for supper 
at the same time. We can then exchange information, 
supposing either of us has been fortunate enough to acquire 
any. What do you say, Wolfenden ? ” 

“ I am quite willing,” Wolfenden said. 

‘*And I,” echoed Densharp, half-past deyen, 

then,” Harcutt concluded, 


CHAPTER VII 


WHO IS MR. SABIN? 

Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell was not at home to ordinary 
callers. Nevertheless when a discreet servant brought her 
Mr. Francis Densham’s card she gave orders for his admit- 
tance without hesitation. 

That he was a privileged person it was easy to see. 
Mrs. Satchell received him with the most charming of 
smiles. 

“ My dear Francis,” she exclaimed, “ I do hope that you 
have lost that wretched headache ! You looked perfectly 
miserable last night. I was so sorry for you.” 

Densham drew an easy chair to her side and accepted a 
cup of tea. 

“ I am quite well again,” he said. “ It was very bad 
indeed for a little time, but it did not last long. Still I felt 
that it made me so utterly stupid that I was half afraid you 
would have written me off your visitors’ list altogether as a 
dull person. I was immensely relieved to be told that you 
were at home.” 

Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell laughed gaily. She was a bright, 
blonde little woman with an exquisite figure and piquante 
face. She had a husband whom no one knew, and gave 
excellent parties to which every one went. In her way she 
was something of a celebrity. She and Densham had 
known each other for many years. 

#‘J am not sure,” she said, “that you did not deserve it^ 

Si 


WHO IS MR. SABIN f 


53 


but then, you see, you are too old a friend to be so sum- 
marily dealt with.” 

She raised her blue eyes to his and dropped them, smiling 
softly. 

Densham looked steadily away into the fire, wondering 
how to broach the subject which had so suddenly taken the 
foremost place in his thoughts. He had not come to make 
even the idlest of love this afternoon. The time when he 
had been content to do so seemed very far away just now. 
Somehow this dainty little woman with her Watteau-like 
grace and delicate mannerisms had, for the present, at any 
rate, lost all her attractiveness for him, and he was able to 
meet the flash of her bright eyes and feel the touch of her 
soft fingers without any corresponding thrill. 

“ You are very good to me,” he said, thoughtfully. “ May 
I have some more tea ? ” 

Now Densham was no strategist. He had come to ask 
a question, and he was dying to ask it. He knew very well 
that it would not do to hurry matters — that he must put it 
as casually as possible towards the close of his visit. But 
at the same time, the period of probation, during which he 
should have been more than usually entertaining, was 
scarcely a success, and his manner was restless and con- 
strained. Every now and then there were long and 
unusual pauses, and he continuously and with obvious effort 
kept bringing back the conversation to the reception last 
night, in the hope that some remark from her might make 
the way easier for him. But nothing of the sort happened. 
The reception had not interested her in the slightest, and 
she had nothing to say about it, and his pre-occupation at 
last became manifest. She looked at him curiously after 
one of those awkward pauses to which she was quite un- 
accustomed, and his thoughts were evidently far away. As 
a matter of fact, he was at that moment actually framing 
the question which he had come to ask. 


54 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ My dear Francis,” she said, quietly, “ why don*t you 
tell me what is the matter with you ? You are not amusing. 
You have something on your mind. Is it anything you 
wish to ask of me ? ” 

“Yes,” he said, boldly, “I have come to ask you a 
favour.” 

She smiled at him encouragingly. 

“Well, do ask it,” she said, “and get rid of your woe- 
begone face. You ought to know that if it is anything 
within my power I shall not hesitate.” 

“ I want,” he said, “ to paint your portrait for next yeads 
Academy.” 

This was a master stroke. To have Densham paint her 
picture was just at that moment the height of Mrs. Thorpe- 
SatchelFs ambition. A flush of pleasure came into her 
cheeks, and her eyes were very bright. 

“Do you really mean it?” she exclaimed, leaning over 
towards him. “ Are you sure ? ” 

“Of course I mean it,” he answered. “If only I can 
do you justice, I think it ought to be the portrait of the 
year. I have been studying you for a long time in an 
indefinite sort of way, and I think that I have some good 
ideas,” 

Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell laughed softly. Densham, although 
not a great artist, was the most fashionable portrait painter 
of the minute, and he had the knack of giving a chic 
touch to his women — of investing them with a certain style 
without the sacrifice of similitude. He refused quite as 
ma,ny commissions as he accepted, and he could scarcely 
have flattered Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell more than by his 
request. She was delightfully amiable. 

“You are a dear old thing,” she said, beaming upon 
him. ‘^What shall I wear? That yellow satin gown that 
you like, or say you like, so much ? ” 

He discussed the question with her gravely. It was not 


WHO IS MR. SABIN f 


55 

until he rose to go that he actually broached the question 
which had been engrossing all his thoughts. 

“ By the bye,” he said, “ I wanted to ask you something. 
You know Harcutt ? ” 

She nodded. Of course she knew Harcutt. Were her 
first suspicions correct ! Had he some other reason for this 
visit of his ? 

“Well,” Densham went on, “he is immensely inte- 
rested in some people who were at that stupid reception 
last night. He tried to get an introduction but he couldn’t 
find any one who knew them, and he doesn’t know the 
Princess well enough to ask her.. He thought that he saw 
you speaking to the man, so I promised that when I saw 
you I would ask about them.” 

“ I spoke to a good many men,” she said. “ YTiat is his 
name ? ” 

“ Sabin — Mr. Sabin ; and there is a girl, his daughter, or 
niece, I suppose.” 

Was it Densham’s fancy or had she indeed turned a 
shade paler. The little be-jewelled hand, which had been 
resting close to his, suddenly buried itself in the cushions. 
Densham, who was watching her closely, was conscious of a 
hardness about her mouth which he had never noticed 
before. She was 'silent some time before she answered 
him. 

“ I am sorry,” she said, slowly, “ but I can tell you scarcely 
anything about them. I only met him once in India many 
years ago, and I have not the slightest idea as to who he is 
or where he came from. I am quite sure that I should 
not have recollected him last night but for his deformity.” 

Densham tried very hard to hide his disappointment. 

“ So you met him in India,” he remarked. “ Do you 
know what he was doing there ? He was not in the service 
at all, I suppose.” 

“ I really do not know,” she answered, “ but I think not, 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


56 

I believe that he is, or was, very wealthy. I remember hear- 
ing a few things about him — nothing of much importance. 
But if Mr. Harcutt is your friend,” she added, looking at 
him fixedly, “you can give him some excellent advice.” 

“ Harcutt is a very decent fellow,” Densham said, “ and 
I know that he will be glad of it.” 

“Tell him to have nothing whatever to do with Mr. 
Sabin.” 

Densham looked at her keenly. 

“Then you do know something about him,” he ex- 
claimed. 

She moved her chair back a little to where the light no 
longer played upon her face, and she answered him with- 
out looking up. 

“ Very little. It was so long ago and my memory is not 
what it used to be. Never mind that. The advice is good 
anyhow. If,” she continued, looking steadily up at Densham, 
“if it were not Mr. Harcutt who was interested in these people, 
if it were any one, Francis, for whose welfare I had a greater 
care, who was really my friend, I would make that advice, 
if I could, a thousand times stronger. I would implore 
him to have nothing whatever to do with this man or any 
of his creatures.” 

Densham laughed — not very easily. His disappointment 
was great, but his interest was stimulated. 

“At any rate,” he said, “ the girl is harmless. She can- 
not have left school a year.” 

“A year with that man,” she answered, bitterly, “is a 
liberal education in corruption. Don’t misunderstand me. 
I have no personal grievance against him. We have never 
come together, thank God ! But there were stories — I 
cannot remember them now — I do not wish to remember 
them, but the impression they made still remains. If a 
little of what people said about him is true he is a prince of 
wickedness,” 


WHO IS MR. SABIN f 


57 


“The girl herself ?” 

“ I know nothing of,” she admitted. 

Densham determined upon a bold stroke. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ do me this favour — you shall 
never regret it. You and the Princess are intimate, I know : 
order your carriage and go and see her this afternoon. Ask 
her what she knows about that girl. Get her to tell you 
everything. Then let me know. Don’t ask me to explain 
just now — simply remember that we are old friends and that 
I ask you to do this thing for me.” 

She rang the bell. 

“ My victoria at once,” she told the servant. Then she 
turned to Densham. “ I will do exactly what you ask,” she 
said. “ You can come with me and wait while I see the 
Princess — if she is at home. You see I am doing for you 
what I would do for no one else in the world. Don’t 
trouble about thanking me now. Do you mind waiting 
while I get my things on? I shall only be a minute or 
two.” 

Her minute or two was half an hour. Densham waited 
impatiently. He scarcely knew whether to be satisfied 
with the result of his mission or not. He had learnt a very 
little — he was probably going to learn a little more, but he 
was quite aware that he had not conducted the negotiations 
with any particular skill, and the bribe which he had offered 
was a heavy one. He was still uncertain about it when Mrs. 
Thorpe-Satchell reappeared. She had changed her indoor 
gown for a soft petunia-coloured costume trimmed with 
sable, and she held out her hands towards him with a 
delightful smile. 

“Celeste is wretchedly awkward with gloves,” she said, 
“ so I have left them for you. Do you like my gown ? ” 

“You look charming,” he said, bending over his task, 
“ and you know it.” 

“ I always wear my smartest clothes when I am going to 


58 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


see my particular friends,” she declared. ' “ They quiz one 
so ! Besides, I do not always have an escort ! Come ! ” 

She talked to him gaily on the stairs, as he handed her 
into the carriage, and all the way to their destination, yet 
he was conscious all the time of a subtle change in her 
demeanour towards him. She was a proud little woman, and 
she had received a shock. Densham was making use of 
her — Densham, of all men, was making use of her, of all 
women. He had been perfectly correct in those vague 
fears of his. She did not believe that he had come to her 
for his friend’s sake. She never doubted but that it was he 
himself who was interested in this girl, and she looked upon 
his visit and his request to her as something very nearly 
approaching brutality. He must be interested in the girl, 
very deeply interested, or he would never have resorted to 
such means of gaining information about her. She was 
suddenly silent and turned a little pale as the carriage 
turned into the square. Her errand was not a pleasant one 
to her. 

Densham was left alone in the carriage for nearly an 
hour. He was impatient, and yet her prolonged absence 
pleased him. She had found the Princess in, she would 
bring him the information he desired. He sat gazing idly 
into the faces of the passers-by with his thoughts very far 
away. How that girl’s face had taken hold of his fancy ; 
had excited in some strange way his whole artistic tempera- 
ment ! She was the exquisite embodiment of a new type of 
girlhood, from which was excluded all that was crude and 
unpleasing and unfinished. She seemed to him to combine 
in some mysterious manner all the dainty freshness of 
youth with the delicate grace and savoir faire of a 
Frenchwoman of the best period. He scarcely fancied 
himself in love with her; at any rate if it had been suggested 
to him he would have denied it. Her beauty had certainly 
taken a singular hold of him. His imagination was touched. 


WHO IS MR. SABIN t 


59 


He was immensely attracted, but as to anything serious — 
well, he would not have admitted it even to himself. 
Liberty meant so much to him, he had told himself over 
and over again that, for many years at least, his art must be 
his sole mistress. Besides, he was no boy to lose his heart, 
as certainly Wolfenden had done, to a girl with whom he 
had never even spoken. It was ridiculous, and yet 

A soft voice in his ear suddenly recalled him to the 
present. Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell was standing upon the 
pavement. The slight pallor had gone from her cheeks 
and the light had come back to her eyes. He looked at 
her, irresistibly attracted. She had never appeared more 
charming. 

She stepped into the carriage, and the soft folds of her 
gown spread themselves out over the cushions. She drew 
them on one side to make room for him. 

“ Come,” she said, “ let us have one turn in the Park. It 
is quite early, although I am afraid that I have been a very 
long time.” 

He stepped in at once and they drove off. Mrs. Thorpe- 
Satchell laughingly repeated some story which the Princess 
had just told her. Evidently she was in high spirits. The 
strained look had gone from her face. Her gaiety was no 
longer forced. 

“You want to know the result of my mission, I suppose,” 
she remarked, pleasantly. “ Well, I am afraid you will call 
it a failure. The moment I mentioned the man’s name the 
Princess stopped me.” 

“ ‘ You mustn’t talk to me about that man,’ she said. 
* Don’t ask why, only you must not talk about him.’ 

“ ‘ I don’t want to,’ I assured her ; ‘ but the girl.’ ” 

“ What did she say about the girl ? ” Densham asked. 

“ Well she did tell me something about her,” Mrs. Thorpe- 
Satchell said, slowly, “ but, unfortunately, it will not help 
your friend. She only told me when 1 had promised un- 


6o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


conditionally and upon my honour to keep her information 
a profound secret. So I am sorry, Francis, but even to 
you ” 

“ Of course, you must not repeat it,” Densham said, 
hastily. “ I would not ask you for the world ; but is there 
not a single scrap of information about the man or the girl, 
who he is, what he is, of what family or nationality the 
girl is — anything at all which I can take to Harcutt ? ” 

Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell looked straight at him with a faint 
smile at the corners of her lips. 

“ Yes, there is one thing which you can tell Mr. Harcutt,” 
she said. 

Densham drew a little breath. At last, then ! 

“You can tell him this,” Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell said, 
slowly and impressively, “ that if it is the girl, as I suppose 
it is, in whom he is interested, that the very best thing he 
can do is to forget that he has ever seen her. I cannot 
tell you who she is or what, although I know. But we are 
old friends, Francis, and I know that my word will be 
sufficient for you. You can take this from me as the 
solemn truth. Your friend had better hope for the love of 
the Sphinx, or fix his heart upon the statue of Diana, as 
think of that girl.” 

Densham was looking straight ahead along the stream ot 
vehicles. His eyes were set, but he saw nothing. He did 
not doubt her word for a moment. He knew that she had 
spoken the truth. The atmosphere seemed suddenly grey 
and sunless. He shivered a little — he was positively 
chilled. Just for a moment he saw the girl’s face, heard 
the swirl of her skirts as she had passed their table and the 
sound of her voice as she had bent over the great cluster of 
white roses whose faint perfume reached even to where they 
were sitting. Then he half closed his eyes. He had come 
very near making a terrible mistake. 

“ Thank you,” he said. “ I will tell Harcutt.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


A MEETING IN BOND STREET 

WoLFENDEN returned to his rooms to lunch, intending to 
go round to see his last night’s visitor immediately after- 
wards. He had scarcely taken off his coat, however, before 
Selby met him in the hall, a note in his hand. 

“From the young lady, my lord,” he announced. “My 
wife has just sent it round.” 

Wolfenden tore the envelope open and read it. 

“ Thursday morning. 

“Dear Lord Wolfenden, — Of course I made a mis- 
take in coming to you last night. I am very sorry indeed 
— more sorry than you will ever know. A woman does 
not forget these things readily, and the lesson you have 
taught me it will not be difficult for me to remember all my 
life. I cannot consent to remain your debtor, and I am 
leaving here at once. I shall have gone long before you 
receive this note. Do not try to find me. I shall not want 
for friends if I choose to seek them. Apart from this, I do 
not want to see you again. I mean it, and I trust to your 
honour to respect my wishes. I think that I may at least 
ask you to grant me this for the sake of those days at 
Deringham, which it is now my fervent wish to utterly 
forget. — I am, yours sincerely, 

“Bj^anchb Merton,” 


62 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABW 


‘*The young lady, my lord,” Selby remarked, ‘Heft early 
this morning. She expressed herself as altogether satisfied 
with the attention she had received, but she had decided to 
make other arrangements.” 

Wolfenden nodded, and walked into his dining-room with 
the note crushed up in his hand. 

“ For the sake of those days at Deringham,” he repeated 
softly to himself. Was the girl a fool, or only an adven- 
turess? It was true that there had been something like 
a very mild flirtation between them at Deringham, but it 
had been altogether harmless, and certainly more of her 
seeking than his. They had met in the grounds once or 
twice and walked together; he had talked to her a little 
after dinner, feeling a certain sympathy for her isolation, 
and perhaps a little admiration for her undoubted pretti- 
ness ; yet all the time he had had a slightly uneasy feeling 
with regard to her. Her ingenuousness had become a 
matter of doubt to him. It was so now more than ever, 
yet he could not understand her going away like this and 
the tone of her note. So far as he was concerned, it was 
the most satisfactory thing that could have happened. It 
relieved him of a responsibility which he scarcely knew 
how to deal with. In the face of her dismissal from 
Deringham, any assistance which she might have accepted 
from him would naturally have been open to misapprehen- 
sion. But that she should have gone away and have 
written to him in such a strain was directly contrary to his 
anticipations. Unless she was really hurt and disappointed 
by his reception of her, he could not see what she had to 
gain by it. He was puzzled a little, but his thoughts were 
too deeply engrossed elsewhere for him to take her dis- 
appearance very seriously. By the time he had finished 
lunch he had come to the conclusion that what had hap- 
pened was fpr the best, and that he would t^ke her at ber 


A MEETING IN BOND STREET 


He left his rooms again about three o’clock, and at pre- 
cisely the hour at which Densham had rung the bell of 
Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell’s house in Mayfair he experienced 
a very great piece of good fortune. 

Coming out of Scott’s, where more from habit than 
necessity he had turned in to have his hat ironed, he came 
face to face, a few yards up Bond Street, with the two 
people whom, more than any one else in the world, he had 
desired to meet. They were walking together, the girl 
talking, the man listening with an air of half-amused 
deference. Suddenly she broke off and welcomed Wolf- 
enden with a delightful smile of recognition. The man 
looked up quickly. Wolfenden was standing before them 
on the pavement, hat in hand, his pleasure at this unex- 
pected meeting very plainly evidenced in his face. Mr. 
Sabin’s greeting, if devoid of any special cordiality, was 
courteous and even genial. Wolfenden never quite knew 
whence he got the impression, which certainly came to him 
with all the strength and absoluteness of an original inspira- 
tion, that this encounter was not altogether pleasant to him. 

“ How strange that we should meet you ! ” the girl said. 
“ Do you know that this is the first walk that I have ever 
had in London ? ” 

She spoke rather softly and rather slowly. Her voice 
possessed a sibilant and musical intonation ; there was 
perhaps the faintest suggestion of an accent. As she stood 
there smiling upon him in a deep blue gown, trimmed with 
a silvery fur, in the making of which no English dressmaker 
had been concerned, Wolfenden’s subjection was absolute 
and complete. He was aware that his answer was a little 
flurried. He was less at his ease than he could have 
wished. Afterwards he thought of a hundred things he 
would have liked to have said, but the surprise of seeing 
them so suddenly had cost him a little of his usual self- 
possession. Mr. Sabin took up the conversation. 


64 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


“My infirmity,” he said, glancing downwards, “makes 
walking, especially on stone pavements, rather a painful 
undertaking. However, London is one of those cities 
which can only be seen on foot, and my niece has all the 
curiosity of her age.” 

She laughed out frankly. She wore no veil, and a tinge 
of colour had found its way into her cheeks, relieving that 
delicate but not unhealthy pallor, which to Densham had 
seemed so exquisite. 

“I think shopping is delightful. Is it not?” she ex- 
claimed. 

Wolfenden was absolutely sure of it. He was, indeed, 
needlessly emphatic. Mr. Sabin smiled faintly. 

“ I am glad to have met you again. Lord Wolfenden,” he 
said, “ if only to thank you for your aid last night. I was 
anxious to get away before any fuss was made, or I would 
have expressed my gratitude at the time in a more seemly 
fashion.” 

“ I hope,” Wolfenden said, “ that you will not think it 
necessary to say anything more about it. I did what any 
one in my place would have done without a moment’s 
hesitation.” 

“ I am not quite so sure of that,” Mr. Sabin said. “ But 
by the bye, can you tell me what became of the fellow? 
Did any one go after him?” 

“ There was some sort of pursuit, I believe,” Wolfenden 
said slowly, “ but he was not caught.” 

“ I am glad to hear it,” Mr. Sabin said. 

Wolfenden looked at him in some surprise. He could 
not make up his mind whether it was his duty to dis- 
close the name of the man who had made this strange 
attempt. 

“ Your assailant was, I suppose, a stranger to you ? ” he 
said slowly. 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 


A MEETING IN BOND 3TEEET 6$ 

“By no means. I recognised him directly. So, I 
believe, did you.” 

Wolfenden was honestly amazed. 

“He was your guest, I believe,” Mr. Sabin continued, 
“ until I entered the room. I saw him leave, and I' was 
half-prepared for something of the sort.” 

“ He was my guest, it is true, but none the less, he was 
a stranger to me,” Wolfenden explained. “He brought 
a letter from my cousin, who seems to have considered 
him a decent sort of fellow.” 

“There is,” Mr. Sabin said dryly, “nothing whatever 
the matter with him, except that he is mad.” 

“ On the whole, I cannot say that I am surprised to hear 
it,” Wolfenden remarked ; “but I certainly think that, con- 
sidering the form his madness takes, you ought to protect 
yourself in some way.” 

Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. 

“He can never hurt me. I carry a talisman which is 
proof against any attempt that he can make ; but none the 
less, I must confess that your aid last night was very 
welcome.” 

“I was very pleased to be of any service,” Wolfenden 
said, “especially,” he added, glancing toward Mr. Sabin’s 
niece, “ since it has given me the pleasure of your acquaint- 
ance.” 

A little thrill passed through him. Her delicately- 
curved lips were quivering as though with amusement, 
and her eyes had fallen ; she had blushed slightly at that 
unwitting, ardent look of his. Mr. Sabin’s cold voice 
recalled him to himself. 

“I believe,” he said, “that I overheard your name 
correctly. It is Wolfenden, is it not?” 

Wolfenden assented. 

“lam sorry that I haven’t a card,” he said. “ That is 
my name.” 


5 


66 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Mr. Sabin looked at him curiously. 

“Wolfenden is, I believe, the family name of the 
Deringhams ? May I ask, are you any relation to Admiral 
Lord Deringham ? ” 

Wolfenden was suddenly grave. 

“ Yes,” he answered ; “ he is my father. Did you ever 
meet him?” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 

“No, I have heard of him abroad ; also, I believe, of the 
Countess of Deringham, your mother. It is many years 
ago. I trust that I have not inadvertently ” 

“ Not at all,” Wolfenden declared. “ My father is still 
alive, although he is in very delicate health. I wonder, 
would you and your niece do me the honour of having 
some tea with me ? It is Ladies’ Day at the * Geranium 
Club,’ and I should be delighted to take you there if you 
'Would allow me.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 

Wolfenden had the satisfaction of seeing the girl look 
disappointed. 

“We are very much obliged to you,” Mr. Sabin said, 
“but I have an appointment which is already overdue. 
You must not mind, Helene, if we ride the rest of the 
way.” 

He vHirned and hailed a passing hansom, which drew up 
immediately at the kerb by their side. Mr. Sabin handed 
his niece in, and stood for a moment on the pavement with 
Wolfenden. 

“I hope that we may meet again before long. Lord 
Wolfenden,” he said. “ In the meantime let me assure 
you once more of my sincere gratitude.” 

The girl leaned forward over the apron of the cab. 

“ And may I not add mine too ? ” she said. “ I almost 
wish that we were not going to the ‘ Milan ’ again to-night. 
I am afraid that I shall be nervous.” 


A MEETING IN BOND STREET 67 

She looked straight at Wolfenden. He was ridiculously 
happy. 

“ I can promise,” he said, “ that no harm shall come to 
Mr. Sabin to-night, at any rate. I shall be at the * Milan ’ 
myself, and I will keep a very close look out.” 

“ How reassuring ! ” she exclaimed, with a brilliant smile. 
** Lord Wolfenden is going to be at the * Milan ’ to-night,” 
she added, turning to Mr. Sabin. “ Why don’t you ask 
him to join us ? I shall feel so much more comfortable.” 

There was a faint but distinct frown on Mr. Sabin’s face 
— a distinct hesitation before he spoke. But Wolfenden 
would notice neither. He was looking over Mr. Sabin’s 
shoulder, and his instructions were very clear. 

“If you will have supper with us we shall be very 
pleased,” Mr. Sabin said stiffly ; “ but no doubt you have 
already made your party. Supper is an institution which 
one seldom contemplates alone.” 

“ I am quite free, and I shall be delighted,” Wolfenden 
said without hesitation. “ About eleven, I suppose ? ” 

“ A quarter past,” Mr. Sabin said, stepping into the cab. 
“ We may go to the theatre.” 

The hansom drove off, and Wolfenden stood on the 
pavement, hat in hand. What fortune ! He could scarcely 
believe in it. Then, just as he turned to move on, some- 
thing lying at his feet almost at the edge of the kerbstone 
attracted his attention. He looked at it more closely. It 
was a ribbon — a little delicate strip of deep blue ribbon. 
H^ knew quite well whence it must have come. It had 
fallen from her gown as she had stepped into the hansom. 
He looked up and down the street. It was full, but he saw 
no one whom he knew. The thing could be done in a 
minute. He stooped quickly down and picked it up 
crushing it in his gloved hand, and walking on at once 
with heightened colour and a general sense of having made 
a fool of himself. For a moment or two he was especially 


68 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


careful to look neither to the right or to the left; then 
a sense that some one from the other side of the road was 
watching him drew his eyes in that direction. A young 
man was standing upon the edge of the pavement, a 
peculiar smile parting his lips and a cigarette between his 
fingers. For a moment Wolfenden was furiously angry; 
then the eyes of the two men met across the street, and 
Wolfenden forgot his anger. He recognised him at once, 
notwithstanding his appearance in an afternoon toilette as 
carefully chosen as his own. It was Felix, Mr. Sabin’s 
assailant. 


CHAPTER IX 

THE SHADOWS THAT GO BEFORE 

WoLFENDEN forgot his anger at once. He hesitated for a 
moment, then he crossed the street and stood side by side 
with Felix upon the pavement. 

“ I am glad to see that you are looking a sane man 
again,” Wolfenden said, after they had exchanged the usual 
greetings. “ You might have been in a much more un- 
comfortable place, after your last night’s escapade.” 

Felix shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that if I had succeeded a little dis- 
comfort would only have amused me. It is not pleasant 
to fail.” 

Wolfenden stood squarely upon his feet, and laid his 
hand lightly upon the other’s shoulder. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ it won’t do for you to go follow- 
ing a man about London like this, watching for an oppor- 
tunity to murder him. I don’t like interfering in other 
people’s business, but willingly or unwillingly I seem to 
have got mixed up in this, and I have a word or two to 
say about it. Unless you give me your promise, upon 
your honour, to make no further attempt upon that man’s 
life, I shall go to the police, tell them what I know, and 
have you watched.” 

“ You shall have,” Felix said quietly, “ my promise. A 
greater power than the threat of your English police has tied 
my hands ; for the present I have abandoned my purpose.” 

69 


70 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ I am bound to believe you,” Wolfenden said, ** and 
you look as though you were speaking the truth ; yet you 
must forgive my asking why, in that case, you are following 
the man about ? You must have a motive.” 

Felix shook his head. 

“As it happened,” he said, “I am here by the merest 
accident. It may seem strange to you, but it is perfectly 
true. I have just come out of Waldorfs, above there, 
and I saw you all three upon the pavement.” 

“ I am glad to hear it,” Wolfenden said. 

“ More glad,” Felix said, “ than I was to see you with 
them. Can you not believe what I tell you ? shall I give you 
proof? will you be convinced then? Every moment you 
spend with that man is an evil one for you. You may have 
thought me inclined to be melodramatic last night. Perhaps 
I was 1 All the same the man is a fiend. Will you not be 
warned ? I tell you that he is a fiend.” 

“Perhaps he is,” Wolfenden said indifferently. “I am 
not interested in him.” 

“ But you are interested — in his companion.” 

Wolfenden frowned. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that we will leave the lady out of 
the conversation.” 

Felix sighed. 

“You are a good fellow,” he said; “but, forgive me, 
like all your countrymen, you carry chivalry just a thought 
too far — even to simplicity. You do not understand such 
people and their ways.” 

Wolfenden was getting angry, but he held himself in 
check. 

“ You know nothing against her,” he said slowly. 

“ It is true,” Felix answered. “ I know nothing against 
her. It is not necessary. She is his creature. That is 
apparent. The shadow of his wickedness is enough.” 

Wolfenden checked himself in the middle of a hot reply. 


THE SHADOWS THAT GO BEFORE 


71 


He was suddenly conscious of the absurdity of losing his 
temper in the open street with a man so obviously ill- 
balanced — possessed, too, of such strange and wild im- 
pulses. 

“ Let us talk,” he said, “ of something else, or say good- 
morning. Which way were you going ? ” 

“To the Russian Embassy,” Felix said. “I have some 
work to do this afternoon ” 

Wolfenden looked at him curiously. 

“ Our ways, then, are the same for a short distance,” he 
said. “Let us walk together. Forgive me, but you are 
really, then, attached to the Embassy?” 

Felix nodded, and glanced at his companion with a smile. 

“ I am not what you call a fraud altogether,” he said. “ I 
am junior secretary to Prince Lobenski. You, I think, are 
not a politician, are you ? ” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“I take no interest in politics,” he said. “I shall 
probably have to sit in the House of Lords some day, 
but I shall be sorry indeed when the time comes.” 

Felix sighed, and was silent for a moment. 

“You are perhaps fortunate,” he said. “The ways of 
the politician are not exactly rose-strewn. You represent 
a class which in my country does not exist. There we are 
all either in the army, or interested in statecraft. Perhaps 
the secure position of your country does not require such 
ardent service ? 

“You are — of what nationality, may I ask?” Wolfenden 
inquired. 

Felix hesitated. 

“Perhaps,” he said, “you had better not know. The 
less you know of me the better. The time may come when 
it will be to your benefit to be ignorant.” 

Wolfenden took no pains to hide his incredulity. 

“ It is easy to see that you are a stranger in this country,” 


72 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


he remarked. “ We are not in Russia or in South America. 
I can assure you that we scarcely know the meaning of the 
word ‘ intrigue ’ here. We are the most matter-of-fact and 
perhaps the most commonplace nation in the world. You 
will find it out for yourself in time. Whilst you are with us 
you must perforce fall to our level.” 

“ I, too, must become commonplace,” Felix said, smiling. 
“ Is that what you mean ? ” 

“ In a certain sense, yes,” Wolfenden answered. “ You will 
not be able to help it. It will be the natural result of your 
environment. In your own country, wherever that may 
be, I can imagine that you might be a person jealously 
watched by the police ; your comings and goings made a 
note of ; your intrigues — I take it for granted that you are 
concerned in some — the object of the most jealous and 
unceasing suspicion. Here there is nothing of that. You 
could not intrigue if you wanted to. There is nothing to 
intrigue about.” ^ 

They were crossing a crowded thoroughfare, and Felix 
did not reply until they were safe on the opposite pavement. 
Then he took Wolfenden’s arm, and, leaning over, almost 
whispered in his ear — 

“Yau speak,” he said, “what nine-tenths of your country- 
men believe. Yet you are wrong. Wherever there are 
international questions which bring great powers such as 
yours into antagonism, or the reverse, with other great 
countries, the soil is laid ready for intrigue, ancf 1:he seed 
is never long wanted. Yes ; I know that, to all appearance, 
you are the smuggest and most respectable nation ever 
evolved in this world’s history. Yet if you tell me that 
your’s is a nation free from intrigue, I correct you ; you are 
wrong, you do not know — that is all! That very man, 
whose life last night you so inopportunely saved, is at 
this moment deeply involved in an intrigue against your 
country.” 


THE SHADOWS THAT GO BEFORE 


73 


“ Mr. Sabin ! ” Wolfenden exclaimed. 

“Yes, Mr. Sabin! Mind, I know this by chance only. 
I am not concerned one way or the other. My quarrel 
with him is a private one. I am robbed for the present of 
my vengeance by a power to which I am forced to yield 
implicit obedience. So, for the present, I have forgotten 
that he is my enemy. He is safe from me, yet if last night 
I had struck home, I should have ridded your country of 
a great and menacing danger. Perhaps — who can tell — he 
is a man who succeeds — I might even have saved England 
from conquest and ruin.” 

They had reached the top of Piccadilly, and downward 
towards the Park flowed the great afternoon stream of foot- 
people and carriages. Wolfenden, on whom his com- 
panion’s words, charged as they were with an almost 
passionate earnestness, could scarcely fail to leave some 
impression, was silent for a moment. 

“ Do you really believe,” he said, “ that ours is a country 
which could possibly stand in any such danger ? We are 
outside all Continental alliances ! We are pledged to 
support neither the dual or the triple alliance. How could 
we possibly become embroiled ? ” 

“I will tell you one thing which you may not readily 
believe,” Felix said. “ There is no country in the world so 
hated by all the great powers as England.” 

Wolfenden shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Russia,” he remarked, “ is perhaps jealous of our hold 
on Asia, but ” 

“ Russia,” Felix interrupted, “ of all the countries in the 
world, except perhaps Italy, is the most friendly disposed 
towards you.” * 

Wolfenden laughed. 

“ Come,” he said, “ you forget Germany.” 

“ Germany ! ” Felix exclaimed scornfully. “ Believe it 
or not as you choose, but Germany detests you. 1 will 


74 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


tell you a thing which you can think of when you are an 
old man, and there are great changes and events for you to 
look back upon. A war between Germany and England is 
only a matter of time — of a few short years, perhaps even 
months. In the Cabinet at Berlin a war with you to-day 
would be more popular than a war with France.” 

“You take my breath away,” Wolfenden exclaimed, 
laughing. 

Felix was very much in earnest. 

“In the little world of diplomacy,” he said, “in the 
innermost councils these things are known. The outside 
public knows nothing of the awful responsibilities of those 
who govern. Two, at least, of your ministers have realised 
the position. You read this morning in the papers of more 
war-ships and strengthened fortifications — already there have 
been whispers of the conscription. It is not against Russia 
or against France that you are slowly arming yourselves, it 
is against Germany ! ” 

“Germany would be mad to fight us,” Wolfenden 
declared. 

“Under certain conditions,” Felix said slowly. “Don’t 
be angry — Germany must beat you.” 

Wolfenden, looking across the street, saw Harcutt on the 
steps of his club, and beckoned to him. 

“There is Harcutt,” he exclaimed, pointing him out to 
Felix. “ He is a journalist, you know, and in search of a 
sensation. Let us hear what he has to say about these 
things.” 

But Felix unlinked his arm from Wolfenden’s hastily. 

“You must excuse me,” he said. “Harcutt would 
recognise me, and I do not wish to be pointed out every- 
where as a would-be assassin. Remember what I have 
said, and avoid Sabin and his parasites as you would the 
devil.” 

Felix hurried away. Wolfenden remained for a moment 


THE SHADOWS THAT GO BEFORE 


75 


standing in the middle of the pavement looking blankly 
along Piccadilly. Harcutt crossed over to him. 

“You look,” he remarked to Wolfenden, “like a man 
who needs a drink.” 

Wolfenden turned with him into the club. 

“ I believe that I do,” he said. ‘‘ 1 have had rather an 
eventful hour.” 


CHAPTER X 


THE SECRETARY 

Mr. Sabin, who had parted with Wolfenden with evident 
relief, leaned back in the cab and looked at his watch. 

“That young man,” he remarked, “has wasted ten 
minutes of my time. He will probably have to pay for 
it some day.” 

“ By the bye,” the girl asked, “ who is he ? ” 

“ His name is Wolfenden — Lord Wolfenden.” 

“ So I gathered ; and who is Lord Wolfenden ? ” 

“The only son of Admiral the Earl of Deringham. I 
don’t know anything more than that about him myself.” 

“Admiral Deringham,” the girl repeated, thoughtfully; 
“ the name sounds familiar.” 

Mr. Sabin nodded. 

“Very likely,” he said. “He was in command of the 
Channel Squadron at the time of the Magnificent disaster. 
He was barely half a mile away and saw the whole thing. 
He came in, too, rightly or wrongly, for a share of the blame.” 

“ Didn’t he go mad, or something ? ” the girl asked. 

“ He had a fit,” Mr. Sabin said calmly, “ and left the 
service almost directly afterwards. He is living in strict 
seclusion in Norfolk, I believe. I should not like to say 
that he is mad. As a matter of fact, I do not believe that 
he is.” 

She looked at him curiously. There was a note oi 
reserve in his tone. 


76 


THE SECRETARY 


77 


“You are interested in him, are you not? ” she •asked. 

“In a measure,” he admitted. “He is supposed, mad 
or not, to be the greatest living authority on the coast 
defences of England and the state of her battleships. They 
shelved him at the Admiralty, but he wrote some vigorous 
letters to the papers and there are people pretty high up 
who believe in him. Others, of course, think that he is 
a crank.” 

“ But why,” she asked, languidly, “ are you interested in 
such matters ? ” 

Mr. Sabin knocked the ash off the cigarette he was 
smoking and was silent for a moment. 

“ One gets interested nowadays in — a great many things 
which scarcely seem to concern us,” he remarked de- 
liberately. “ You, for instance, seem interested in this 
man’s son. He cannot possibly be of any account to us.” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“ Did I say that I was interested in him ? ” 

“ You did not,” Mr. Sabin answered, “ but it was scarcely 
necessary ; you stopped to speak to him of your own accord, 
and you asked him to supper, which was scarcely discreet.” 

“ One gets so bored sometimes,” she admitted frankly. 

“ You are only a woman,” he said indulgently; “ a year of 
waiting seems to you an eternity, however vast the stake. 
There will come a time when you will see things differently.” 

“ I wonder ! ” she said softly, “I wonder ! ” 

^ ♦ * * * 

Mr. Sabin had unconsciously spoken the truth when 
he had pleaded an appointment to Lord Wolfenden. His 
servant drew him on one side directly they entered the 
house. 

“There is a young lady here, sir, waiting for you in 
the study.” 

“ Been here long ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 


78 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“About two hours, sir. She has rung once or twice 
to ask about you.” 

Mr. Sabin turned away and opened the study door, 
carefully closing it behind him at once as he recognised 
his visitor. The air was blue with tobacco smoke, and the 
girl, who looked up at his entrance, held a cigarette between 
her fingers. Mr. Sabin was at least as surprised as Lord 
Wolfenden when he recognised his visitor, but his face was 
absolutely emotionless. He nodded not unkindly and stood 
looking at her, leaning upon his stick. 

“ Well, Blanche, what has gone wrong ? ” he asked. 

“ Pretty well everything,” she answered. “ I’ve been 
turned away.” 

“ Detected ? ” he asked quickly. 

“ Suspected, at any rate. I wrote you that Lord Dering- 
ham was watching me sharply. Where he got the idea from 
I can’t imagine, but he got it and he got it right, anyhow. 
He’s followed me about like a cat, and it’s all up.” 

“ What does he know ? ” 

“Nothing ! He found a sheet of carbon on my desk, no 
more ! I had to leave in an hour.” 

“ And Lady Deringham ? ” 

“ She is like the rest — she thinks him mad. She has not 
the faintest idea that, mad or not, he has stumbled upon the 
truth. She was glad to have me go — for other reasons ; 
but she has not the faintest doubt but that I have been 
unjustly dismissed.” 

“ And he ? How much does he know ? ” 

“ Exactly what I told you — nothing ! His idea was just 
a confused one that I thought the stuff valuable — how you 
can make any sense of such trash I don’t know — and that I 
was keeping a copy back for myself. He was worrying for 
an excuse to get rid of me, and he grabbed at it.” 

“ Why was Lady Deringham glad to have you go ? ” Mr. 
Sabin asked. 


THE SECRETARY 


79 


“ Because I amused myself with her son.” 

“ Lord Wolfenden ? ” 

“Yes!” 

For the first time since he had entered the room Mr. 
Sabin’s grim countenance relaxed. The corners of his lips, 
slowly twisted themselves into a smile. 

“ Good girl,” he said. “ Is he any use now ? ” 

“ None,” she answered with some emphasis. “ None 
whatever. He is a fool.” 

The colour in her cheeks had deepened a little. A light 
shot from her eyes. Mr. Sabin’s amusement deepened. He 
looked positively benign. 

“ You’ve tried him ? ” he suggested. 

The girl nodded, and blew a little cloud of tobacco smoke 
from her mouth. 

“Yes ; I went there last night. He was very kind. He 
sent his servant out with me and got me nice, respectable 
rooms.” 

Mr. Sabin did what was for him an exceptional thing. He 
sat down and laughed to himself softly, but with a genuine 
and obvious enjoyment. 

“Blanche,” he said, “it was a lucky thing that I dis- 
covered you. No one else could have appreciated you 
properly.” 

She looked at him with a sudden hardness. 

“ You should appreciate me,” she said, “ for what I am 
you made me. I am of your handiwork: a man should 
appeciate the tool of his own fashioning.” 

“ Nature,” Mr. Sabin said smoothly, “ had made the way 
easy for me. Mine were but finishing touches. But we 
have no time for this sort of thing. You have done well 
at Deringham and I shall not forget it. But your dismissal 
just now is exceedingly awkward. For the moment, indeed, 

I scarcely see my way. I wonder in what direction Lord 
Deringham will look for your successor ? ” 


So 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ Not anywhere within the sphere of your influence,” she 
answered. “ I do not think that I shall have a successor at 
all just yet. There was only a week’s work to do. He will 
copy that himself.” 

“ I am very much afraid,” Mr. Sabin said, “ that he will ; 
yet we must have that copy.” 

“ You will be very clever,” she said slowly. “ He has put 
watches all round the place, and the windows are barricaded. 
He sleeps with a revolver by his side, and there are several 
horrors in the shape of traps all round the house.” 

“ No wonder,” Mr. Sabin said, “ that people think him 
mad.” 

The girl laughed shortly. 

“He is mad,” she said. “There is no possible doubt 
about that ; you couldn’t live with him a day and doubt 
it.” 

“ Hereditary, no doubt,” Mr. Sabin suggested quietly. 

Blanche shrugged her shoulders and leaned back yawning. 

“ Anyhow,” she said, “ I’ve had enough of them all. It 
has been very tiresome work and I am sick of it. Give me 
some money. I want a spree. I am going to have a month’s 
holiday.” 

Mr. Sabin sat down at his desk and drew out a cheque- 
book. 

“ There will be no difficulty about the money,” he said, 
“ but I cannot spare you for a month. Long before that I 
must have the rest of this madman’s figures.” 

The girl’s face darkened. 

“ Haven’t I told you,” she said, “ that there is not the 
slightest chance of their taking me back ? You might as 
well believe me. They wouldn’t have me, and I wouldn’t 

go-” 

“ I do not expect anything of the sort,” Mr. Sabin said. 
“ There are other directions, though, in which I shall require 
your aid. I shall have to go to Deringham myself, and as 


THE SECRETARY 


8i 


I know nothing whatever about the place you will be useful 
to me there. I believe that your home is somewhere near 
there.” 

“Well!” 

“There is no reason, I suppose,” Mr. Sabin continued, 
“ why a portion of the vacation you were speaking of should 
not be spent there ? ” 

“None!” the girl replied, “except that it would be 
deadly dull, and no holiday at all. I should want paying 
for it.” 

Mr. Sabin looked down at the cheque-book which 
lay open before him. 

“ I was intending,” he said, “ to offer you a cheque 
for fifty pounds. I will make it one hundred, and you 
will rejoin your family circle at Fakenham, I believe, in one 
week from to-day.” 

The girl made a wry face. 

“ The money’s all right,” she said; “ but you ought to see 
my family circle ! They are all cracked on farming, from 
the poor old dad who loses all his spare cash at it, down to 
little Letty my youngest sister, who can tell you everything 
about the last turnip crop. Do ride over and see us ! You 
will find it so amusing ! ” 

“ I shall be charmed,” Mr. Sabin said sauvely, as he 
commenced filling in the body of the cheque. “Are 
all your sisters, may I ask, as delightful as you ? ” 

She looked at him defiantly. 

“ Look here,” she said, “ none of that ! Of course you 
wouldn’t come, but in any case I won’t have you. The 
girls are — well, not like me, I’m glad to say. I won’t have 
the responsibility of introducing a Mephistocles into the 
domestic circle.” 

“ I can assure you,” Mr. Sabin said, “that I had not the 
faintest idea of coming. My visit to Norfolk will be any- 
thing but a pleasure trip, and I shall have no time to spare. 

6 


82 


MVSTERIOVS MR. UBW 


I believe I have your address: ‘Westacott Farm, Faken- 
ham,’ is it not? Now do what you like in the meantime, 
but a week from to-day there will be a letter from me there. 
Here is the cheque.” 

The girl rose and shook out her skirts. 

“Aren’t you going to take me anywhere?” she asked. 
“You might ask me to have supper with you to-night.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head gently. 

“ I am sorry,” he said, “ but I have a young lady living 
with me.” 

“ Oh ! ” 

“ She is my niece, and it takes more than my spare time 
to entertain her,” he continued, without noticing the inter- 
jection. “You have plenty of friends. Go and look them 
up and enjoy yourself — for a week. I have no heart to go 
pleasure-making until my work is finished.” 

She drew on her gloves and walked to the door. Mr. 
Sabin came with her and opened it. 

“ I wish,” she said, “ that I could understand what in 
this world you are trying to evolve from those rubbishy 
papers.” 

He laughed. 

“ Some day,” he said, “ I will tell you. At present you 
would not understand. Be patient a little longer.” 

“ It has been long enough,” she exclaimed. “ I have 
had seven months of it.” 

“ And I,” he answered, “ seven years. Take care of 
yourself and remember, I shall want you in a week.” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 

At precisely the hour agreed upon Harcutt and Densham 
met in one of the ante-rooms leading into the “ Milan ’ 
restaurant. They surrendered their coats and hats to an 
attendant, and strolled about waiting for Wolfenden. A 
quarter of an hour passed. The stream of people from the 
theatres began to grow thinner. Still, Wolfenden did not 
come. Harcutt took out his watch. 

“ I propose that we do not wait any longer for Wolfenden,” 
he said. “ I saw him this afternoon, and he answered me 
very oddly when I reminded him about to-night. There 
is such a crowd here too, that they will not keep our table 
much longer.” 

“Let us go in, by all means,” Densham agreed. 
“ Wolfenden will easily find us if he wants to ! ” 

Harcutt returned his watch to his pocket slowly, and 
without removing his eyes from Densham’s face. 

“You’re not looking very fit, old chap,” he remarked. 
“ Is anything wrong ? ” 

Densham shook his head and turned away. 

“ I am a little tired,” he said. “ We’ve been keeping late 
hours the last few nights. There’s nothing the matter with 
me, though. Come, let us go in ! ” 

Harcutt linked his arm in Densham’s. The two men 
stood in the doorway. 


83 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ I have not asked you yet,” Harcutt said, in a low tone. 
** What fortune ? ” 

Densham laughed a little bitterly. 

“ I will tell you all that I know presently,” he said. 

“ You have found out something, then ? ” 

“ I have found out,” Densham answered, “all that I care 
to know ! I have found out so much that I am leaving 
England within a week ! ” 

Harcutt looked at him curiously. 

“ Poor old chap,” he said softly. “ I had no idea that 
you were so hard hit as all that, you know.” 

They passed through the crowded room to their table. 
Suddenly Harcutt stopped short and laid his hand upon 
Densham’s arm. 

“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “Look at that! No 
wonder we had to wait for Wolfenden ! ” 

Mr. Sabin and his niece were occupying the same table 
as on the previous night, only this time they were not alone. 
Wolfenden was sitting there between the two. At the 
moment of their entrance, he and the girl were laughing 
together. Mr. Sabin, with the air of one wholly detached 
from his companions, was calmly proceeding with his 
supper. 

“ I understand now,” Harcutt whispered, “ what Wolfen- 
den meant this afternoon. When I reminded him about 
to-night, he laughed and said : ‘Well, I shall see you, at any 
rate.’ I thought it was odd at the time. I wonder how he 
managed it ? ” 

Densham made no reply. The two men took their seats 
in silence. Wolfenden was sitting with his back half-turned 
to them, and he had not noticed their entrance. In a 
moment or two, however, he looked round, and seeing 
them, leaned over towards the girl and apparently asked 
her something. She nodded, and he immediately left his 
seat and joined them. 


THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 85 

There was a little hesitation, almost awkwardness in their 
greetings. No one knew exactly what to say. 

“You fellows are rather late, aren’t you?” Wolfenden 
remarked. 

“We were here punctually enough,” Harcutt replied; 
“ but we have been waiting for you nearly a quarter of an 
hour.” 

“ I am sorry,” Wolfenden said. “ The fact is I ought to 
have left word when I came in, but I quite forgot it. I took 
it for granted that you would look into the room when you 
found that I was behind time.” 

“ Well, it isn’t of much consequence,” Harcutt declared ; 
“ we are here now, at any rate, although it seems that after 
all we are not to have supper together.” 

Wolfenden glanced rapidly over his shoulder. 

“ You understand the position, of course,” he said. “ I 
need not ask you to excuse me.” 

Harcutt nodded. 

“ Oh, we’ll excuse you, by all means ; but on one con- 
dition — we want to know all about it. Where can we see 
you afterwards ? ” 

“At my rooms,” Wolfenden said, turning away and 
resuming his seat at the other table. 

Densham had made no attempt whatever to join in the 
conversation. Once his eyes had met Wolfenden’s, and it 
seemed to the latter that there was a certain expression 
there which needed some explanation. It was not anger — 
it certainly was not envy. Wolfenden was puzzled — he was 
even disturbed. Had Densham discovered anything further 
than he himself knew about this man and the girl ? What 
did he mean by looking as though the key to this mys- 
terious situation was in his hands, and as though he had 
nothing but pity for the only one of the trio who had met 
with any success? Wolfenden resumed his seat with an 
uncomfortable conviction that Densham knew more than 


86 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABiN 


he did about these people whose guest he had become, and 
that the knowledge had damped all his ardour. There was 
a cloud upon his face for a moment. The exuberance of 
his happiness had received a sudden check. Then the" girl 
spoke to him, and the memory of Densham’s unspoken 
warning passed away. He looked at her long and search- 
ingly. Her face was as innocent and proud as the face of 
a child. She was unconscious even of his close scrutiny. 
The man might be anything ; it might even be that every 
word that Felix had spoken was true. But of the girl he 
would believe no evil, he would not doubt her even for a 
moment. 

Your friend,” remarked Mr. Sabin, helping himself to 
an ortolan, “ is a journalist, is he not ? His face seems 
familiar to me although I have forgotten his name, if ever 
I knew it.” 

“ He is a journalist,” Wolfenden answered. “ Not one 
of the rank and file — rather a dilettante^ but still a hard 
worker. He is devoted to his profession, though, and his 
name is Harcutt.” 

“ Harcutt ! ” Mr. Sabin repeated, although he did not 
appear to recollect the name. “ He is a political journalist, 
is he not ? ” 

“ Not that I am aware of,” Wolfenden answered. “ He 
is generally considered to be the great scribe of society. 
I believe that he is interested in foreign politics, 
though.” 

“ Ah ! ” 

Mr. Sabin’s interjection was significant, and Wolfenden 
looked up quickly but fruitlessly. The man’s face was 
impenetrable. 

“ The other fellow,” Wolfenden said, turning to the girl, 
“ is Densham, the painter. His picture in this year’s 
Academy was a good deal talked about, and he does 
some excellent portraits.” 


THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 87 

She threw a glance at him over her gleaming white 
shoulder. 

“ He looks like an artist,” she said. “ I liked his picture 
— a French landscape, was it not ? And his portrait of the 
Countess of Davenport was magnificent.” 

“ If you would care to know him,” Wolfenden said, “ I 
should be very happy to present him to you.” 

Mr. Sabin looked up and shook his head quickly, but 
firmly. 

“ You must excuse us,” he said. “ My niece and I are 
not in England for very long, and we have reasons for 
avoiding new acquaintances as much as possible.” 

A shade passed across the girl’s face. Wolfenden would 
have given much to have known into what worlds those 
clear, soft eyes, suddenly set in a far away gaze, were 
wandering — what those regrets were which had floated up 
so suddenly before her. Was she too as impenetrable as 
the man, or would he some day share with her what there 
was of sorrow or of mystery in her young life ? His heart 
beat with unaccustomed quickness at the thought. Mr. 
Sabin’s last remark, the uncertainty of his own position with 
regard to these people, filled him with sudden fear ; it 
might be that he too was to be included in the sentence 
which had just been pronounced. He looked up from the 
table to find Mr. Sabin’s cold, steely eyes fixed upon him, 
and acting upon a sudden impulse he spoke what was 
nearest to his heart. 

“I hope,” he said, “that the few acquaintances whom 
fate does bring you are not to suffer for the same reason.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled and poured himself out a glass of wine. 

“ You are very good,” he said. “ I presume that you 
refer to yourself. We shall always be glad that we met 
you, shall we not, Helene? But I doubt very much if, 
after to-night, we shall meet again in England at all.” 

To Wolfenden the light seemed suddenly to have gone 


88 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


out, and the soft, low music to have become a wailing 
dirge. He retained some command of his features only by 
a tremendous effort. Even then he felt that he had become 
pale, and that his voice betrayed something of the emotion 
that he felt. 

“ You are going away,” he said slowly — “ abroad ! ” 

“Very soon indeed,” Mr. Sabin answered. “At any 
rate, we leave London during the week. You must not 
look upon us, Lord Wolfenden, as ordinary pleasure-seekers. 
We are wanderers upon the face of the earth, not so much 
by choice as by destiny. I want you to try one of these 
cigarettes. They were given to me by the Khedive, and 
I think you will admit that he knows more about tobacco 
than he does about governing.” 

The girl had been gazing steadfastly at the grapes that 
lay untasted upon her plate, and Wolfenden glanced to- 
wards her twice in vain ; now, however, she looked up, and 
a slight smile parted her lips as her eyes met his. How 
pale she was, and how suddenly serious ! 

“ Do not take my uncle too literally, Lord Wolfenden,” 
she said softly. “ I hope that we shall meet again some time, 
if not often. I should be very sorry not to think so. We 
owe you so much.” 

There was an added warmth in those last few words, 
a subtle light in her eyes. Was she indeed a past mistress 
in all the arts of coquetry, or was there not some message 
for him in that lowered tone and softened glance ? He sat 
spellbound for a moment. Her bosom was certainly rising 
and falling more quickly. The pearls at her throat quivered. 
Then Mr. Sabin’s voice, cold and displeased, dissolved the 
situation. 

“ I think, Helene, if you are ready, we had better go,” 
he said. “ It is nearly half-past twelve, and we shall escape 
the crush if we leave at once.” 

She stood up silently, and Wolfenden, with slow fingers, 


THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 


89 


raised her cloak from the back of the chair and covered 
her shoulders. She thanked him softly, and turning away, 
walked down the room followed by the two men. In the 
ante-room Mr. Sabin stopped. 

“My watch,” he remarked, “was fast. You will have 
time after all for a cigarette with your friends. Good- 
night.” 

Wolfenden had no alternative but to accept his dismissal. 
A little, white hand, flashing with jewels, but shapely and 
delicate, stole out from the dark fur of her cloak, and he 
held it within his for a second. 

“ I hope,” he said, “ that at any rate you will allow me to 
call, and say goodbye before you leave England ? ” 

She looked at him with a faint smile upon her lips. Yet 
her eyes were very sad. 

“You have heard what my inexorable guardian has said. 
Lord Wolfenden,” she answered quietly. “ I am afraid he 
is right. We are wanderers, he and I, with no settled 
home.” 

“I shall venture to hope,” he said boldly, “that some 
day you will make one — in England.” 

A tinge of colour flashed into her cheeks. Her eyes 
danced with amusement at his audacity — then they sud- 
denly dropped, and she caught up the folds of her gown. 

“Ah, well,” she said demurely, “that would be too great 
a happiness. Farewell ! One never knows.” 

She yielded at last to Mr. Sabin’s cold impatience, and 
turning away, followed him down the staircase. Wolfenden 
remained at the top until she had passed out of sight ; he 
lingered even for a moment or two afterwards, inhaling the 
faint, subtle perfume shaken from her gown — a. perfume 
which reminded him of an orchard of pink and white apple 
blossoms in Normandy. Then he turned back, and finding 
Harcutt and Densham lingering over their coflee, sat down 
beside them. 


90 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Harcutt looked at him through half-closed eyes — a little 
cloud of blue tobacco smoke hung over the table. Densham 
had eaten little, but smoked continually. 

“ Well ? ” he asked laconically. 

“ After all,” Wolfenden said, “ I have not very much to 
tell you fellows. Mr. Sabin did not call upon me ; I met 
him by chance in Bond Street, and the girl asked me to 
supper, more I believe in jest than anything. However, of 
course I took advantage of it, and I have spent the evening 
since eleven o’clock with them. But as to gaining any 
definite information as to who or what they are, I must 
confess I’ve failed altogether. I know no more than I did 
yesterday.” 

“ At any rate,” Harcutt remarked, “ you will soon learn 
all that you care to know. You have inserted the thin end 
of the wedge. You have established a visiting acquaint- 
ance.” 

Wolfenden flicked the end from his cigarette savagely. 

“ Nothing of the sort,” he declared. “ They have not 
given me their address, or asked me to call. On the con- 
trary, I was given very clearly to understand by Mr. Sabin 
that they were only travellers and desired no acquaintances. 
I know them, that is all ; what the next step is to be I have 
not the faintest idea.” 

Densham leaned over towards them. There was a strange 
light in his eyes — a peculiar, almost tremulous, earnestness 
in his tone. 

“ Why should there be any next step at all ? ” he said. 
“ Let us all drop this ridiculous business. It has gone far 
enough. I have a presentiment — not altogether presenti- 
ment either, as it is based upon a certain knowledge. It is 
true that these are not ordinary people, and the girl is 
beautiful. But they are not of our lives ! Let them pass 
out. Let us forget them.” 

Harcutt shook his head, 


THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 


91 


'* The man is too interesting to be forgotten or ignored,” 
he said. “ I must know more about him, and before many 
days have passed.” 

Densham turned to the younger man. 

“ At least, Wolfenden,” he said, “ you will listen to reason. 
I teV you as a man of honour, and I think I may add as 
your friend, that you are only courting disappointment. 
The girl is not for you, or me, or any of us. If I dared 
tell you what I know, you would be the first to admit it 
yourself.” 

Wolfenden returned Densham’s eager gaze steadfastly. 

“I have gone,” he said calmly, “too far to turn back. 
You fellows both know I am not a woman’s man. I’ve 
never cared for a girl in all my life, or pretended to, 
seriously. Now that I do, it is not likely that I shall give 
her up without any definite reason. You must speak more 
plainly, Densham, or not at all.” 

Densham rose from his chair. 

“ I am very sorry,” he said. 

Wolfenden turned upon him, frowning. 

“ You need not be,” he said. “ You and Harcutt have 
both, I believe, heard some strange stories concerning the 
man ; but as for the girl, no one shall dare to speak an 
unbecoming word of her.” 

“ No one desired to,” Densham answered quietly. “And 
yet there may be other and equally grave objections to any 
intercourse with her.” 

Wolfenden smiled confidently. 

“ Nothing in the world worth winning,” he said, “is won 
without an effort, or without difficulty. The fruit that is 
of gold does not drop into your mouth.” 

The band had ceased to play and the lights went out. 
Around them was all the bustle of departure. The three 
men rose and left the room. 


CHAPTER XII 


wolfenden’s luck 

To leave London at all, under ordinary circumstances, was 
usually a hardship for Wolfenden, but to leave London at 
this particular moment of his life was little less than a 
calamity, yet a letter which he received a few mornings 
after the supper at the “ Milan ” left him scarcely any 
alternative. He read it over for the third time whilst his 
breakfast grew cold, and each time his duty seemed to 
become plainer. 

“Deringham Hall, Norfolk. 

“ My dear Wolfenden, — We have been rather looking 
for you to come down for a day or two, and I do hope 
that you will be able to manage it directly you receive this. 
I am sorry to say that your father is very far from well, and 
we have all been much upset lately. He still works for 
eight or nine hours a day, and his hallucinations as to the 
value of his papers increases with every page he writes. 
His latest peculiarity is a rooted conviction that there is 
some plot on hand to rob him of his manuscripts. You 
remember, perhaps, Miss Merton, the young person whom 
we engaged as typewriter. He sent her away the other 
day, without a moment’s notice, simply because he saw 
her with a sheet of copying paper in her hand. I did not 
like the girl, but it is perfectly ridiculous to suspect her of 
anything of the sort. He insisted, however, that she should 

92 


WOLFENDEN'S LUCK 


93 


leave the house within an hour, and we were obliged to 
give in to him. Since then he has seemed to become even 
more fidgety. He has had cast-iron shutters fitted to the 
study windows, and two of the keepers are supposed to be 
on duty outside night and day, with loaded revolvers. 
People around here are all beginning to talk, and I am 
afraid that it is only natural that they should. He will 
see no one, and the library door is shut and bolted imme- 
diately he has entered it. Altogether it is a deplorable 
state of things, and what will be the end of it I cannot 
imagine. Sometimes it occurs to me that you might have 
more influence over him than I have. I hope that you 
will be able to come down, if only for a day or two, and 
see what effect your presence has. The shooting is not 
good this year, but Captain Willis was telling me yesterday 
that the golf links were in excellent condition, and there is 
the yacht, of course, if you care to use it. Your father 
seems to have quite forgotten that she is still in the neigh- 
bourhood, I am glad to say. Those inspection cruises 
were very bad things for him. He used to get so excited, 
and he was dreadfully angry if the photographs which I 
took were at all imperfectly developed. How is every- 
body ? Have you seen Lady Susan lately ? and is it true 
that Eleanor is engaged ? I feel literally buried here, but 
I dare not suggest a move. London, for him at present, 
would be madness. I shall hope to get a wire from you 
to-morrow, and will send to Cromer to meet any train. — 
From your affectionate mother, 

“ Constance Manver Deringham.” 

There was not a word of reproach in the letter, but 
nevertheless Wolfenden felt a little conscience-stricken. 
He ought to have gone down to Deringham before ; most 
certainly after the receipt of this summons he could not 
delay his visit any longer. He walked up and down the 


94 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


room impatiently. To leave London just now was detest- 
able. It was true that he could not call upon them, and 
he had no idea where else to look for these people, who, 
for some mysterious reason, seemed to be doing all that 
they could to avoid his acquaintance. Yet chance had 
favoured him once — chance might stand his friend again. 
At any rate to feel himself in the same city with her was 
some consolation. For the last three days he had haunted 
Piccadilly and Bond Street. He had become a saunterer, 
and the shop windows had obtained from him an attention 
which he had never previously bestowed upon them. The 
thought that, at any turning, at any moment, they might 
meet, continually thrilled him. The idea of a journey 
which would place such a meeting utterly out of the 
question, was more than distasteful — it was hateful. 

And yet he would have to go. He admitted that to 
himself as he ate his solitary breakfast, with the letter 
spread out before him. Since it was inevitable, he decided 
to lose no time. Better go at once and have it over. The 
sooner he got there the sooner he would be able to return. 
He rang the bell, and gave the necessary orders. At a 
quarter to twelve he was at King’s Cross. 

He took his ticket in a gloomy frame of mind, and 
bought the Field and a sporting novel at the bookstall. 
Then he turned towards the train, and walking idly down 
the platform, looking for Selby and his belongings, he 
experienced what was very nearly the greatest surprise of 
his life. So far, coincidence was certainly doing her best 
to befriend him. A girl was seated alone in the further 
corner of a first-class carriage. Something familiar in the 
poise of her head, or the gleam of her hair gathered up 
underneath an unusually smart travelling hat, attracted his 
attention. He came to a sudden standstill, breathless, 
incredulous. She was looking out of the opposite window 
her head resting upon her fingers, but a sudden glimpse of 


Wolf^ndMn’s Ltick 


95 


her profile assured him that this was no delusion. It was 
Mr. Sabin’s niece who sat there, a passenger by his own 
train, probably, as he reflected with a sudden illuminative 
flash of thought, to be removed from the risk of any more 
meetings with him. 

Wolfenden, with a discretion at which he afterwards 
wondered, did not at once attract her attention. He 
hurried off to the smoking carriage before which his servant 
was standing, and had his own belongings promptly removed 
on to the platform. Then he paid a visit to the refresh- 
ment-room, and provided himself with an extensive luncheon 
basket, and finally, at the bookstall, he bought up every 
lady’s paper and magazine he could lay his hands upon. 
There was only a minute now before the train was due to 
leave, and he walked along the platform as though looking 
for a seat, followed by his perplexed servant. ^Vhen he 
arrived opposite to her carriage, he paused, only to find 
himself confronted by a severe-looking maid dressed in 
black, and the guard. For the first time he noticed the 
little strip, “ engaged,” pasted across the window. 

“ Plenty of room lower down, sir,” the guard remarked. 
“ This is an engaged carriage.” 

The maid whispered something to the guard, who nodded 
and locked the door. At the sound of the key, however, 
the girl looked round and saw Wolfenden. She lifted her 
eyebrows and smiled faintly. Then she came to the 
window and let it down. 

“Whatever are you doing here?” she asked. “You ” 

He interrupted her gently. The train was on the point 
of departure. 

“ I am going down into Norfolk,” he said. “ I had not 
the least idea of seeing you. I do not think that I was 
ever so surprised.” 

Then he hesitated for a moment. 

“ May I come in with you ? ” he asked. 


96 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


She laughed at him. He had been so afraid of he¥ 
possible refusal, that his question had been positively 
tremulous. 

“ I suppose so,” she said slowly. “ Is the train quite full, 
then ? ” 

He looked at her quite keenly. She was laughing at 
him with her eyes — an odd little trick of hers. He was 
himself again at once, and answered mendaciously, but 
with emphasis — 

“Not a seat anywhere. I shall be left behind if you 
don’t take me in.” 

A word in the guard’s ear was quite sufficient, but the 
maid looked at Wolfenden suspiciously. She leaned into 
the carriage. 

“ Would mademoiselle prefer that I, too, travelled with 
her ? ” she inquired in French. 

The girl answered her in the same language. 

“ Certainly not, Celeste. You had better go and take 
your seat at once. We are just going ! ” 

The maid reluctantly withdrew, with disapproval very 
plainly stamped upon her dark face. Wolfenden and his 
belongings were bundled in, and the whistle blew. The 
train moved slowly out of the station. They were off ! 

“ I believe,” she said, looking with a smile at the pile of 
magazines and papers littered all over the seat, “ that you 
are an impostor. Or perhaps you have a peculiar taste in 
literature ! ” 

She pointed towards the Queen and the Gentlewoman. 
He was in high spirits, and he made open confession. 

“ I saw you ten minutes ago,” he declared, “ and since 
then I have been endeavouring to make myself an accept- 
able travelling companion. But don’t begin to study 
the fashions yet, please. Tell me how it is that after 
looking all over London for three days for you, I find you 
here.” 


WOLFENDEWS LUCK 


97 


“It is the unexpected,” she remarked, “which always 
happens. But after all there is nothing mysterious about 
it. I am going down to a little house which my uncle has 
taken, somewhere near Cromer. You will think it odd, I 
suppose, considering his deformity, but he is devoted to 
golf, and some one has been telling him that Norfolk is 
the proper county to go to.” 

“ And you ? ” he asked. 

She shook her head disconsolately. 

“I am afraid I am not English enough to care much 
for games,” she admitted. “ I like riding and archery, and 
I used to shoot a little, but to go into the country at this 
time of the year to play any game seems to me positively 
barbarous. London is quite dull enough — but the country 
— and the English country, too ! — well, I have been 
engrossed in self-pity ever since my uncle announced 
his plans.” 

“I do not imagine,” he said smiling, “that you care 
very much for England.” 

“ I do not imagine,” she admitted promptly, “ that I do. 
I am a Frenchwoman, you see, and to me there is no city 
on earth like Paris, and no country like my own.” 

“The women of your nation,” he remarked, “are always 
patriotic. I have never met a Frenchwoman who cared 
for England.” 

“ We have reason to be patriotic,” she said, “ or rather, 
we had,” she added, with a curious note of sadness in her 
tone. “ But, come, I do not desire to talk about my 
country. I admitted you here to be an entertaining com- 
panion, and you have made me speak already of the subject 
which is to me the most mournful in the world. I do not 
wish to talk any more about France. Will you please think 
of another subject ? ” 

“ Mr. Sabin is not with you,” he remarked. 

“ He intended to come. Something important kept him 

7 


98 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SAB/N 


at the last moment. He will follow me, perhaps, by a later 
train to-day, if not to-morrow.” 

“ It is certainly a coincidence,” he said, “that you should 
be going to Cromer. My home is quite near there.” 

“ And you are going there now ? ” she asked. 

“ I am delighted to say that I am.” 

“You did not mention it the other evening,” she re- 
marked. “ You talked as though you had no intention at 
all of leaving London.” 

“ Neither had I at that time,” he said. “ I had a letter 
from home this morning which decided me.” 

She smiled softly. 

“Well, it is strange,” she said. “On the whole, it is 
perhaps fortunate that you did not contemplate this journey 
when we had supper together the other night.” 

He caught at her meaning, and laughed. 

“ It is more than fortunate,” he declared. “ If I had 
known of it, and told Mr. Sabin, you would not have been 
travelling by this train alone.” 

“ I certainly should not,” she admitted demurely. 

He saw his opportunity, and swiftly availed himself of it. 

“ Why does your uncle object to me so much ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Object to you ! ” she repeated. “ On the contrary, 
I think that he rather approves of you. You saved his 
life, or something very much like it. He should be very 
grateful ! I think that he is ! ” 

“Yet,” he persisted, “he does not seem to desire my 
acquaintance — for you, at any rate. You have just admitted, 
that if he had known that there was any chance of our 
being fellow passengers you would not have been here.” 

She did not answer him immediately. She was looking 
fixedly out of the window. Her face seemed to him more 
than ordinarily grave. When she turned her head, her 
eyes were thoughtful — a little sad. 


WOLFENDEN'S LUCK 


99 


“ You are quite right,” she said. “ My uncle does not 
think it well for me to make any acquaintances in this 
country. We are not here for very long. No doubt he is 
right. He has at least reason on his side. Only it is a 
little dull for me, and it is not what I have been used to. 
Yet there are sacrifices always. I cannot tell you any 
more. You must please not ask me. You are here, and 
I am pleased that you are here ! There ! will not that 
content you ? ” 

“ It gives me,” he answered earnestly, “ more than con- 
tentment ! It is happiness ! ” 

“ That is precisely the sort of thing,” she said slowly to 
him, with laughter in her eyes, “ which you are not to say ! 
Please understand that ! ” 

He accepted the rebuke lightly. He was far too happy 
in being with her to be troubled by vague limitations. The 
present was good enough for him, and he did his best to 
entertain her. He noticed with pleasure that she did not 
even glance at the pile of papers at her side. They talked 
without intermission. She was interested, even gay. Yet 
he could not but notice that every now and then, especially 
at any reference to the future, her tone grew graver and a 
shadow passed across her face. Once he said something 
which suggested the possibility of her living always in 
England. She had shaken her head at once, gently but 
firmly. 

“ No, I could never live in this country,” she said, “even 
if my liking for it grew. It would be impossible ! ” 

He was puzzled for a moment. 

“ You think that you could never care for it enough,” he 
suggested ; “yet you have scarcely had time to judge it 
fairly. London in the spring is gay enough, and the life at 
some of our country houses is very different to what it was 
a few years ago. Society is so much more tolerant and 
broader.” 


lOO 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“It is scarcely a question,” she said, “of my likes or 
dislikes. Next to Paris, I prefer London in the spring to 
any city in Europe, and a week I spent at Radnett was 
very delightful. But, nevertheless, I could never live here. 
It is not my destiny ! ” 

The old curiosity was strong upon him. Radnett was 
the home of the Duchess of Radnett and Ilchester, who 
had the reputation of being the most exclusive hostess in 
Europe ! He was bewildered. 

“ I would give a great deal,” he said earnestly, “ to know 
what you believe that destiny to be.” 

“We are bordering upon the forbidden subject,” she 
reminded him, with a look which was almost reproachful. 
“You must please believe me when I tell you, that for me 
things have already been arranged otherwise. Come, I 
want you to tell me all about this country into which we 
are going. You must remember that to me it is all new ! ” 

He suffered her to lead the conversation into other 
channels, with a vague feeling of disquiet. The mystery 
which hung around the girl and her uncle seemed only to 
grow denser as his desire to penetrate it grew. At present, 
at any rate, he was baffled. He dared ask no more 
questions. 

The train glided into Peterborough station before either 
of them were well aware that they had entered in earnest 
upon the journey. Wolfenden looked out of the window 
with amazement. 

“ Why, we are nearly half way there ! ” he exclaimed. 
“ How wretched ! ” 

She smiled, and took up a magazine. Wolfenden’s 
servant came respectfully to the window. 

“ Can I get you anything, my lord ? ” he inquired. 

Wolfenden shook his head, and opening the door, stepped 
out on to the platform. 

** Nothing, thanks, Selby,” he said. “You had better 


WOLFENDEN’S LUCK 


lOI 


get yourself some lunch. We don’t get to Deringham 
until four o’clock.” 

The man raised his hat and turned away. In a moment, 
however, he was back again. 

“You will pardon my mentioning it, my lord,” he said, 
“ but the young lady’s maid has been travelling in my 
carriage, and a nice fidget she’s been in all the way. She’s 
been muttering to herself in French, and she seems terribly 
frightened about something or other. The moment the 
train stopped here, she rushed off to the telegraph office.” 

“She seems a little excitable,” Wolfenden remarked. 
“ All right, Selby, you’d better hurry up and get what you 
want to eat.” 

“ Certainly, my lord ; and perhaps your lordship knows 
that there is a flower-stall in the corner there.” 

Wolfenden nodded and hurried off. He returned to the 
carriage just as the train was moving off, with a handful of 
fresh, wet violets, whose perfume seemed instantly to fill 
the compartment. The girl held out her hands with a 
little exclamation of pleasure. 

“ What a delightful travelling companion you are,” she 
declared. “ I think these English violets are the sweetest 
flowers in the world.” 

She held them up to her lips. Wolfenden was looking 
at a paper bag in her lap. 

“ May I inquire what that is ? ” he asked. 

“ Buns ! ” she answered. “ You must not think that 
because I am a girl I am never hungry. It is two o’clock, 
and I am positively famished. I sent my maid for them.” 

He smiled, and sweeping away the bundles of rugs and 
coats, produced the luncheon basket which he had secured 
at King’s Cross, and opening it, spread out the contents. 

“ For two ! ” she exclaimed, “ and what a delightful 
looking salad! Where on earth did that come from?” 

“Oh, I am no magician,” he exclaimed. “I ordered 


102 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


the basket at King’s Cross, after I had seen you. Let me 
spread the cloth here. My dressing-case will make a 
capital table ! ” 

They picnicked together gaily. It seemed to Wolfenden 
that chicken and tongue had never tasted so well before, 
or claret, at three shillings the bottle, so full and delicious. 
They cleared everything up, and then sat and talked over 
the cigarette which she had insisted upon. But although 
he tried more than once, he could not lead the conversation 
into any serious channel — she would not talk of her past, 
she distinctly avoided the future. Once, when he had 
made a deliberate effort to gain some knowledge as to her 
earlier surroundings, she reproved him with a silence so 
marked that he hastened to talk of something else. 

“Your maid,” he said, “ is greatly distressed about some- 
thing. She sent a telegram off at Peterborough. I hope 
that your uncle will not make himself unpleasant because 
of my travelling with you.” 

She smiled at him quite undisturbed. 

“ Poor Celeste,” she said. “ Your presence here has 
upset her terribly. Mr. Sabin has some rather strange 
notions about me, and I am quite sure that he would 
rather have sent me down in a special train than have had 
this happen. You need not look so serious about it.” 

“ It is only on your account,” he assured her. 

“ Then you need not look serious at all,” she continued. 
“ I am not under my uncle’s jurisdiction. In fact, I am 
quite an independent person.” 

“ I am delighted to hear it,” he said heartily. “ I should 
imagine that Mr. Sabin would not be at all a pleasant 
person to be on bad terms with.” 

She smiled thoughtfully. 

“ There are a good many people,” she said, “ who would 
agree with you. There are a great many people in the 
world who have cause to regret having offended him. Let 


WOLFENDEN'S LUCK 


103 


us talk of something else. I believe that I can see the 
sea!” 

They were indeed at Cromer. He found a carriage for 
her, and collected her belongings. He was almost amused 
at her absolute indolence in the midst of the bustle of 
arrival. She was evidently unused to doing the slightest 
thing for herself. He took the address which she gave to 
him, and repeated it to the driver. Then he asked the 
question which had been trembling many times upon 
his lips. 

“ May I come and see you ? ” 

She had evidently been considering the matter, for she 
answered him at once and deliberately. 

“ I should like you to,” she said ; “ but if for any reason 
it did not suit my uncle to have you come, it would not be 
pleasant for either of us. He is going to play golf on the 
Deringham links. You will be certain to see him there, 
and you must be guided by his manner towards you.” 

“ And if he is still — as he was in London — must this be 
goodbye, then ? ” he asked earnestly. 

She looked at him with a faint colour in her cheeks and 
a softer light in her proud, clear eyes. 

“ Well,” she said, “ goodbye would be the last word 
which could be spoken between us. But, nHmportey we 
shall see.” 

She flashed a suddenly brilliant smile upon him, and 
leaned back amongst the cushions. The carriage drove 
off, and Wolfenden, humming pleasantly to himself, stepped 
into the dog-cart which was waiting for him. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A GREAT WORK 

The Countess of Deringham might be excused for consider- 
ing herself the most unfortunate woman in England. In a 
single week she had passed from the position of one of the 
most brilliant leaders of English society to be the keeper of 
a recluse, whose sanity was at least doubtful. Her hus- 
band, Admiral the Earl of Deringham, had been a man of 
iron nerve and constitution, with a splendid reputation, and 
undoubtedly a fine seaman. The horror of a single day 
had broken up his life. He had been the awe-stricken 
witness of a great naval catastrophe, in which many of his 
oldest friends and companions had gone to the bottom of 
the sea before his eyes, together with nearly a thousand 
British seamen. The responsibility for the disaster lay 
chiefly from those who had perished in it, yet some small 
share of the blame was fastened upon the onlookers, and 
he himself, as admiral in command, had not altogether 
escaped. From the moment when they had led him down 
from the bridge of his flagship, grey and fainting, he had 
been a changed man. He had never recovered from the 
shock. He retired from active service at once, under a 
singular and marvellously persistent delusion. Briefly he 
believed, or professed to believe, that half the British fleet 
had perished, and that the country was at the mercy of the 
first great Power who cared to send her warships up the 
Thames. It was a question whether he was really in- 


A GREAT WORE 


105 


sane ; on any ordinary topic his views were the views of a 
rational man, but the task which he proceeded to set 
himself was so absorbing that any other subject seemed 
scarcely to come within the horizon of his comprehension. 
He imagined himself selected by no less a person than the 
Secretary for War, to devote the rest of his life to the ac- 
complishment of a certain undertaking ! Practically his 
mission was to prove by figures, plans, and naval details 
(unknown to the general public), the complete helplessness 
of the empire. He bought a yacht and commenced a 
series of short cruises, lasting over two years, during the 
whole of which time his wife was his faithful and constant 
companion. They visited in turn each one of the fortified 
ports of the country, winding up with a general inspection 
of every battleship and cruiser within British waters. Then, 
with huge piles of amassed information before him, he 
settled down in Norfolk to the framing of his report, still 
under the impression that the whole country was anxiously 
awaiting it. His wife remained with him then, listening 
daily to the news of his progress, and careful never to 
utter a single word of discouragement or disbelief in the 
startling facts which he sometimes put before her. The 
best room in the house, the great library, was stripped 
perfectly bare and fitted up for his study, and a typist was 
engaged to copy out the result of his labours in fair form. 
Lately, the fatal results to England which would follow the 
public disclosure of her awful helplessness had weighed 
heavily upon him, and he was beginning to live in the fear 
of betrayal. The room in which he worked was fitted with 
iron shutters, and was guarded night and day. He saw no 
visitors, and was annoyed if any were permitted to enter 
the house. He met his wife only at dinner time, for which 
meal he dressed in great state, and at which no one else was 
ever allowed to be present. He suffered, when they were 
alone, no word to pass his lips, save with reference to the 


io6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


subject of his labours ; it is certain he looked upon himself 
as the discoverer of terrible secrets. Any remark ad- 
dressed to him upon other matters utterly failed to make 
any impression. If he heard it he did not reply. He 
would simply look puzzled, and, as speedily as possible 
withdraw. He was sixty years of age, of dignified and 
kindly appearance ; a handsome man still, save that the 
fire of his blue eyes was quenched, and the firm 
lines of his commanding mouth had become tremulous. 
Wolfenden, on his arrival, was met in the hall by his mother, 
who carried him off at once to have tea in her own room. 
As he took a low chair opposite to her he was conscious 
at once of a distinct sense of self-reproach. Although still 
a handsome woman, the Countess of Deringham was only 
the wreck of her former brilliant self. Wolfenden, knowing 
what her life must be, under its altered circumstances, 
could scarcely wonder at it. The black hair was still only 
faintly streaked with grey, and her figure was as slim and 
upright as ever. But there were lines on her forehead and 
about her eyes, her cheeks were thinner, and even her hands 
were wasted. He looked at her in silent pity, and although 
a man of singularly undemonstrative habits, he took her 
hand in his and pressed it gently. Then he set himself to 
talk as cheerfully as possible. 

“There is nothing much wrong physically with the 
Admiral, I hope ? ” he said, calling him by the name they 
still always gave him. “ I saw him at the window as I 
came round. By the by, what is that extraordinary look- 
ing affair like a sentry-box doing there ? ” 

The Countess sighed. 

“ That is part of what I have to tell you,” she said. “ A 
sentry-box is exactly what it is, and if you had looked 
inside you would have seen Dunn or Heggs there keeping 
guard. In health your father seems as well as ever; mentally, 
i am afraid that he js worse. I fear that he is getting 


A GREAT WORK 


107 


very bad indeed. That is why I have sent for you, 
Wolf!” 

Wolfenden was seriously and genuinely concerned. 
Surely his mother had had enough to bear. 

“I am very sorry,” he said. “Your letter prepared me 
a little for this; you must tell me all about it.” 

“ He ■ has suddenly become the victim,” the Countess 
said, “of a new and most extraordinary delusion. How it 
came to pass I cannot exactly tell, but this is what hap- 
pened. He has a bed, you know, made up in an ante- 
room, leading from the library, and he sleeps there 
generally. Early this morning the whole house was 
awakened by the sound of two revolver shots. I hurried 
down in my dressing-gown, and found some of the servants 
already outside the library door, which was locked and 
barred on the inside. When he heard my voice he let me 
in. The room was in partial darkness and some disorder. 
He had a smoking revolver in his hand, and he was 
muttering to himself so fast that I could not understand a 
word he said. The chest which holds all his maps and 
papers had been dragged into the middle of the room, and 
tne iron staple had been twisted, as though with a heavy 
blow. I saw that the lamp was flickering and a current of 
air was in the room, and when I looked towards the window 
I found that the shutters were open and one of the sashes 
had been lifted. All at once he became coherent. 

“ ‘ Send for Morton and Philip Dunn ! ’ he cried. * Let 
the shrubbery and all the Home Park be searched. Let 
no one pass out of either of the gates. There have been 
thieves here I * 

“ I gave his orders to Morton. ‘ Where is Richardson ? * 
I asked. Richardson was supposed to have been watching 
outside. Before he could answer Richardson came in 
through the window. His forehead was bleeding, as 
though from a blow. 


io8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ ‘ What has happened, Richardson ?’ I asked The man 
hesitated and looked at your father. Your father answered 
instead. 

“ * I woke up five minutes ago,’ he cried, ‘and found two 
men here. How they got past Richardson I don’t know, 
but they were in the room, and they had dragged my chest 
out there, and had forced a crowbar through the lock ! I 
was just in time ; I hit one man in the arm and he fired 
back. Then they bolted right past Richardson. They 
must have nearly knocked you down. You must have been 
asleep, you idiot,’ he cried, ‘or you could have stopped 
them ! ’ 

“ I turned to Richardson ; he did not say a word, but he 
looked at me meaningly. The Admiral was examining his 
chest, so I drew Richardson on one side. 

“ ‘ Is this true, Richardson ? ’ I asked. The man shook 
his head. 

“‘No, your ladyship,’ he said bluntly, ‘it ain’t; there’s 
no two men been here at all ! The master dragged the 
chest out himself ; I heard him doing it, and I saw the light, 
so I left my box and stepped into the room to see what 
was wrong. Directly he saw me he yelled out and let fly at 
me with his revolver ! It’s a wonder I’m alive, for one of 
the bullets grazed my temple ! ’ 

“ Then he went on to say that he would like to leave, 
that no wages were good enough to be shot at, and plainly 
hinted that he thought your father ought to be locked up. 
I talked him over, and then got the Admiral to go back to 
bed. We had the place searched as a matter of form, but 
of course there was no sign of anybody. He had imagined 
the whole thing ! It is a mercy that he did not kill 
Richardson ! ” 

“ This is very serious,” Wolfenden said gravely. “ What 
about his revolver ^ ” 

‘•I managea to secure that,” the Countess said. “It is 


A GREAT WORK 


109 


locked up in my drawer, but I am afraid that he may ask 
for it at any moment.” 

“ We can make that all right,” Wolfenden said ; “ I know 
where there are some blank cartridges in the gun-room, and 
I will reload the revolver with them. By the by, what 
does Blatherwick say about all this?” 

“ He is almost as worried as I am, poor little man,” Lady 
Deringham said. “ I am afraid every day that he will give 
it up and leave. We are paying him five hundred a year, 
but it must be miserable work for him. It is really almost 
amusing, though, to see how terrified he is at your father. 
He positively shakes when he speaks to him.” 

“ What does he have to do ? ” Wolfenden asked. 

“Oh, draw maps and make calculations and copy all 
sorts of things. You see it is wasted and purposeless work, 
that is what makes it so hard for the poor man.” 

“ You are quite sure, I suppose,” Wolfenden asked, after 
a moment’s hesitation, “ that it is all wasted work ? ” 

“Absolutely,” the Countess declared. “ Mr. Blatherwick 
brings me, sometimes in despair, sheets upon which he 
has been engaged for days. They are all just a hopeless 
tangle of figures and wild calculations ! Nobody could 
possibly make anything coherent out of them.” 

“ I wonder,” Wolfenden suggested thoughtfully, “whether 
it would be a good idea to get Denvers, the secretary, to 
write and ask him not to go on with the work for the 
present. He could easily make some excuse — say that it 
was attracting attention which they desired to avoid, or 
something of that sort ! Denvers is a good fellow, and 
he and the Admiral were great friends once, weren’t 
they ? ” 

The Countess shook her head. 

“ I am afraid that would not do at all,” she said. “Besides, 
out of pure good nature, of course, Denvers has already 
encouraged him. Only last week he wrote him a friendly 


no 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


letter hoping that he was getting on, and telling him 
how interested every one in the War Office was to hear 
about his work. He has known about it all the time, you 
see. Then, too, if the occupation were taken from your 
father, I am afraid he would break down altogether.” 

“Of course there is that to be feared,” Wolfenden 
admitted. “ I wonder what put this new delusion into 
his head? Does he suspect any one in particular?” 

The Countess shook her head. 

“ I do not think so ; of course it was Miss Merton who 
started it. He quite believes that she took copies of all 
the work she did here, but he was so pleased with himself 
at the idea of having found her out, that he has troubled 
very little about it. He seems to think that she had not 
reached the most important part of his work, and he is 
copying that himself now by hand.” 

“ But outside the house has he no suspicions at all ? ” 

“Not that I know of; not any definite suspicion. He 
was talking last night of Duchesne, the great spy and 
adventurer, in a rambling sort of way. ‘ Duchesne would 
be the man to get hold of my work if he knew of it,’ he 
kept on saying. ‘ But none must know of it ! The news- 
papers must be quiet ! It is a terrible danger ! ’ He 
talked like that for some time. No, I do not think that 
he suspects anybody. It is more a general uneasiness.” 

“ Poor old chap ! ” Wolfenden said softly. “ What does 
Dr. Whitlett think of him ? Has he seen him lately ? I 
wonder if there is any chance of his getting over it?” 

“ None at all,” she answered. “ Dr. Whitlett is quite 
frank ; he will never recover what he has lost — he will 
probably lose more. But come, there is the dressing bell. 
You will see him for yourself at dinner. Whatever you 
do don’t be late — he hates any one to be a minute behind 
time.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK 

WoLFENDEN was careful to reach the hall before the dinner 
gong had sounded. His father greeted him warmly, and 
Wolfenden was surprised to see so little outward change in 
him. He was carefully dressed, well groomed in every 
respect, and he wore a delicate orchid in his button-hole. 

During dinner he discussed the little round of London 
life and its various social events with perfect sanity, and 
permitted himself his usual good-natured grumble at Wol- 
fenden for his dilatoriness in the choice of a profession. 

He did not once refer to the subject of his own weakness 
until dessert had been served, when he passed the claret to 
Wolfenden without filling his own glass. 

“You will excuse my not joining you,” he said to his son, 
“ but I have still three or four hours’ writing to do, and such 
work as mine requires a very clear head — you can understand 
that, I daresay.” 

Wolfenden assented in silence. For the first time, perhaps, 
he fully realised the ethical pity of seeing a man so distin- 
guished the victim of a hopeless and incurable mania. He 
watched him sitting at the head of his table, courteous, 
gentle, dignified; noted too the air of intellectual abstrac- 
tion which followed upon his last speech, and in which he 
seemed to dwell for the rest of the time during which they 
sat together. Instinctively he knew what disillusionment 
must mean for him. Sooner anything than that. It must 

III 


112 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


never be. Never! he repeated firmly to himself as he 
smoked a solitary cigar later on in the empty smoking- 
room. Whatever happens he must be saved from that. There 
was a knock at the door, and in response to his invitation 
to enter, Mr. Blatherwick came in. Wolfenden, who was in 
the humour to prefer any one’s society to his own, greeted 
him pleasantly, and wheeled up an easy chair opposite to 
his own. 

“Come to have a smoke, Blatherwick?” he said. “That’s 
right. Try one of these cigars; the governor’s are all right, 
but they are in such shocking condition.” 

Mr. Blatherwick accepted one with some hesitation, 
and puffed slowly at it with an air of great deliberation. 
He was a young man of mild demeanour and deport- 
ment, and clerical aspirations. He wore thick spectacles, 
and suffered from chronic biliousness. 

“ I am much obliged to you, Lord Wolfenden,” he said. 
“ I seldom smoke cigars — it is not good for my sight. An 
occasional cigarette is all I permit myself.” 

Wolfenden groaned inwardly, for his regalias were price- 
less and not to be replaced ; but he said nothing. 

“ I have taken the liberty. Lord Wolfenden,” Mr. Blather- 
wick continued, “ of bringing for your inspection a letter I 
received this morning. It is, I presume, intended for a 
practical joke, and I need not say that I intend to treat it 
as such. At the same time as you were in the house, 
I imagined that no — er — harm would ensue if I ventured to 
ask for your opinion.” 

He handed an open letter to Wolfenden, who took it and 

read it through. It was dated “ I^ondon,” and bore 

the postmark of the previous day. 

“ Mr. Arnold Blatherwick. 

“Dear Sir, — The writer of this letter is prepared to 
offer you one thousand pounds in return for a certain 


THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK 113 


service which you are in a position to perform. The 
‘details of that service can only be explained to you in 
a personal interview, but broadly speaking it is as 
follows : — 

“You are engaged as private secretary to the Earl of 
Deringham, lately an admiral in the British Navy. Your 
duties, it is presumed, are to copy and revise papers and 
calculations having reference to the coast defences and 
navy of Great Britain. The writer is himself engaged 
upon a somewhat similar task, but not having had the 
facilities accorded to Lord Deringham, is without one 
or two important particulars. The service required of 
you is the supplying of these, and for this you are offered 
one thousand pounds. 

“As a man of honour you may possibly hesitate to 
at once embrace this offer. You need not ! Lord Dering- 
ham’s work is practically useless, for it is the work of a 
lunatic. You yourself, from your intimate association with 
him, must know that this statement is true. He will never 
be able to give coherent form to the mass of statistics and 
information which he has collected. Therefore you do him 
no harm in supplying these few particulars to one who will 
be able to make use of them. The sum you are offered is 
out of all proportion to their value — a few months’ delay 
and they could easily be acquired by the writer without the 
expenditure of a single halfpenny. That, however, is not 
the point. 

“ I am rich and I have no time to spare. Hence this 
offer. I take it that you are a man of common sense, and 
I take it for granted, therefore, that you will not hesitate to 
accept this offer. Your acquiescence will be assumed if you 
lunch at the Grand Hotel, Cromer, between one and two, 
on Thursday following the receipt of this letter. You will 
then be put in full possession of all the information neces- 
sary to the carrying out of the proposals made to you. You 

8 


114 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


are well known to the writer, who will take the liberty 
of joining you at your table.” 

The letter ended thus somewhat abruptly. Wolfenden, 
who had only glanced it through at first, now re-read it 
carefully. Then he handed it back to Blatherwick. 

“ It is a very curious communication,” he said thought- 
fully, “a very curious communication indeed. I do not 
know what to think of it.” 

Mr. Blatherwick laid down his cigar with an air of 
great relief. He would have liked to have thrown it away, 
but dared not. 

“It must surely be intended for a practical joke. Lord 
Wolfenden,” he said. “ Either that, or my correspondent 
has been ludicrously misinformed.” 

“You do not consider, then, that my father’s work is 
of any value at all ? ” Wolfenden asked. 

Mr. Blatherwick coughed apologetically, and watched the 
extinction of the cigar by his side with obvious satisfaction. 

“ You would, I am sure, prefer,” he said, “ that I gave you 
a perfectly straightforward answer to that question. I — er 
— cannot conceive that the work upon which his lordship 
and I are engaged can be of the slightest interest or use to 
anybody. I can assure you. Lord Wolfenden, that my 
brain at times reels — positively reels — from the extraordinary 
nature of the manuscripts which your father has passed on 
to me to copy. It is not that they are merely technical, 
they are absolutely and entirely meaningless. You ask me 
for my opinion. Lord Wolfenden, and I conceive it to be 
my duty to answer you honestly. I am quite sure that his 
lordship is not in a fit state of mind to undertake any 
serious work.” 

“ The person who wrote that letter,” Wolfenden remarked, 
“ thought otherwise.” 

“The person who wrote that letter,” Mr. Blatherwick 


THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK 


”5 


retorted quickly, “ if indeed it was written in good faith, is 
scarcely likely to know so much about his lordship’s condi- 
tion of mind as I, who have spent the greater portion 
of every day for three months with him.” 

“Do you consider that my father is getting worse, 
Mr. Blatherwick ? ” Wolfenden asked. 

“A week ago,” Mr. Blatherwick said, “I should have 
replied that his lordship’s state of mind was exactly the same 
as when I first came here. But there has been a change for 
the worse during the last week. It commenced with his 
sudden, and I am bound to say, unfounded suspicions of 
Miss Merton, whom I believe to be a most estimable and 
worthy young lady.” 

Mr. Blatherwick paused, and appeared to be troubled 
with a slight cough. The smile, which Wolfenden was not 
altogether able to conceal, seemed somewhat to increase 
his embarrassment. 

“ The extraordinary occurrence of last night, which her 
ladyship has probably detailed to you,” Mr. Blatherwick 
continued, “was the next development of what, I fear, 
we can only regard as downright insanity. I regret having 
to speak so plainly, but I am afraid that any milder phrase 
would be inapplicable.” 

“ I am very sorry to hear this,” Wolfenden remarked 
gravely. 

“ Under the circumstances,” Mr. Blatherwick said, pick- 
ing up his cigar which was now extinct, and immediately 
laying it down again, “I trust that you and Lady Dering- 
ham will excuse my not giving the customary notice of my 
desire to leave. It is of course impossible for me to 
continue to draw a — er — a stipend such as I am in receipt 
of for services so ludicrously inadequate.” 

“ Lady Deringham will be sorry to have you go,” Wolfen- 
den said. “ Couldn’t you put up with it a little longer ? ” 

“I would much prefer to leave,” Mr, Blatherwick said 


ii6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


decidedly. “I am not physically strong, and I must 
confess that his lordship’s attitude at times positively 
alarms me. I fear that there is no doubt that he com- 
mitted an unprovoked assault last night upon that 
unfortunate keeper. There is — er — no telling whom he 
might select for his next victim. If quite convenient, 
Lord Wolfenden, I should like to leave to-morrow by an 
early train.” 

“ Oh ! you can’t go so soon as that,” Wolfenden said. 
“ How about this letter ? ” 

“You can take any steps you think proper with regard to 
it,” Mr. Blatherwick answered nervously. “ Personally, 
I have nothing to do with it. I thought of going to spend 
a week with an aunt of mine in Cornwall, and I should like 
to leave by the early train to-morrow.” 

Wolfenden could scarcely keep from laughing, although 
he was a little annoyed. 

“ Look here, Blatherwick,” he said, “ you must help me 
a little before you go, there’s a good fellow. I don’t doubt 
for a moment what you say about the poor old governor’s 
condition of mind ; but at the same time it’s rather an odd 
thing, isn’t it, that his own sudden fear of having his work 
stolen is followed up by the receipt of this letter to you? 
There is some one, at any rate, who places a very high value 
upon his manuscripts. I must say that I should like to 
know whom that letter came from.” 

“ I can assure you,” Mr. Blatherwick said, “ that I have 
not the faintest idea.” 

“Of course you haven’t,” Wolfenden assented, a little 
impatiently. “ But don’t you see how easy it will be for us 
to find out? You must go to the Grand Hotel on Thurs- 
day for lunch, and meet this mysterious person.” 

“I would very much rather not,” Mr. Blatherwick de- 
clared promptly. “ I should feel exceedingly uncomfort- 
able ; I should not like it at all I ” 


THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK 117 


“ Look here,” Wolfenden said persuasively “ I must 
find out who wrote that letter, and can only do so with 
your help. You need only be there, I will come 
up directly I have marked the man who comes to your 
table. Your presence is all that is required; and I shall 
take it as a favour if you will allow me to make you a 
present of a fifty-pound note.” 

Mr. Blatherwick flushed a little and hesitated. He had 
brothers and sisters, whose bringing up was a terrible 
strain upon the slim purse of his father, a country clergy- 
man, and a great deal could be done with fifty pounds. It 
was against his conscience as well as his inclinations to 
remain in a post where his duties were a farce, but this was 
different. 

He sighed. 

“You are very generous, Lord Wolfenden,” he said. “ I 
will stay until after Thursday.” 

“ There’s a good fellow,” Wolfenden said, much relieved 
“ Have another cigar ? ” 

Mr. Blatherwick rose hastily, and shook his head. “You 
must excuse me, if you please,” he said. “ I will not smoke 
any more. I think if you will not mind ” 

Wolfenden turned to the window and held up his hand. 

“ Listen ! ” he said. “ Is that a carriage at this time of 
night ? ” 

A carriage it certainly was, passing by the window. In a 
moment they heard it draw up at the front door, and some 
one alighted. 

“ Odd time for callers,” Wolfenden remarked. 

Mr. Blatherwick did not reply. He, too, was listening. 
In a moment they heard the rustling of a woman’s skirts 
outside, and the smoking-room door opened. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE COMING AND GOING OF MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 

Both men looked up as Lady Deringham entered the 
room, carefully closing the door behind her. She had a 
card in her hand, and an open letter. 

“ Wolfenden,” she said. “ I am so glad that you are 
here. It is most fortunate ! Something very singular has 
happened. You will be able to tell me what to do.” 

Mr. Blatherwick rose quietly and left the room. 

Wolfenden was all attention. 

“ Some one has just arrived,” he remarked. 

“A gentleman, a complete stranger,” she assented. 
“This is his card. He seemed surprised that his name 
was not familiar to me. He was quite sure that you would 
know it.” 

Wolfenden took the card between his fingers and read it 
out. 

“ Mr. Franklin Wilmot.” 

He was thoughtful for a moment. The name was 
familiar enough, but he could not immediately remember 
in what connection. Suddenly it flashed into his mind. 

“ Of course ! ” he exclaimed. “ He is a famous phy- 
sician — a very great swell, goes to Court and all that ! ” 

Lady Deringham nodded. 

“He has introduced himself as a physician. He has 
brought this letter from Dr. Whitlett.” 

Wolfenden took the note from her hand. It was written 

ll8 


MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 


1 19 

on half a sheet of paper, and apparently in great 
haste : — 


“ Dear Lady Deringham, — My old friend, Franklin 
Wilmot, who has been staying at Cromer, has just called 
upon me. We have been having a chat, and he is ex- 
tremely interested in Lord Deringham’s case, so much so 
that I had arranged to come over with him this evening to 
see if you would care to have his opinion. Unfortunately, 
however, I have been summoned to attend a patient nearly 
ten miles away — a bad accident, I fear — and Wilmot is 
leaving for town to-morrow morning. I suggested, how- 
ever, that he might call on his way back to Cromer, and if 
you would kindly let him see Lord Deringham, I should be 
glad, as his opinion would be of material assistance to me. 
Wilmot’s reputation as the greatest living authority on 
cases of partial mania is doubtless known to you, and as he 
never, under any circumstances, visits patients outside 
London, it would be a great pity to lose this opportunity. 

“ In great haste and begging you to excuse this scrawl, 

“ I am, dear Lady Deringham, 

“Yours sincerely, 

“John Whitlett. 

“P.S. — You will please not offer him any fee.” 

Wolfenden folded up the letter and returned it. 

“ Well, I suppose it’s all right,” he said. “ It’s an odd 
time, though, to call on an errand of this sort.” 

“So I thought,” Lady Deringham agreed; “but Dr. 
Whitlett’s explanation seems perfectly feasible, does it not ? 
I said that I would consult you. You will come in and 
see him ? ” 

Wolfenden followed his mother into the drawing-room. 
A tall, dark man was sitting in a corner, under a palm tree. 


120 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


In one hand he held a magazine, the pictures of which he 
seemed to be studying with the aid of an eyeglass, the 
other was raised to his mouth. He was in the act of 
indulging in a yawn when Wolfenden and his mother 
entered the room. 

“This is my son. Lord Wolfenden,” she said. “Dr. 
Franklin Wilmot.” 

The two men bowed. 

“Lady Deringham has explained to you the reason of 
my untimely visit, I presume ? ” the latter remarked at 
once. 

Wolfenden assented. 

“ Yes ! I am afraid that it will be a little difficult to get 
my father to see you on such short notice.” 

“ I was about to explain to Lady Deringham, before I 
understood that you were in the house,” Dr. Wilmot said, 
“ that although that would be an advantage, it is not abso- 
lutely necessary at present. I should of course have to 
examine your father before giving a definite opinion as to 
his case, but I can give you a very fair idea as to his con- 
dition without seeing him at all.” 

Wolfenden and his mother exchanged glances. 

“You must forgive us,” Wolfenden commenced hesitat- 
ingly, “but really I can scarcely understand.” 

“Of course iiot,” their visitor interrupted brusquely. 
“ My method is one which is doubtless altogether strange 
to you, but if you read the Lancet or the Medical yournalj 
you would have heard a good deal about it lately. I form 
my conclusions as to the mental condition of a patient 
almost altogether from a close inspection of their letters, or 
any work upon which they are, or have been, recently 
engaged. I do not say that it is possible to do this from 
a single letter, but when a man has a hobby, such as I under- 
stand Lord Deringham indulges in, and has devoted a great 
deal of time to real or imaginary work in connection with it, 


MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 


121 


I am generally able, from a study of that work, to tell how 
far the brain is weakened, if at all, and in what manner it 
can be strengthened. This is only the crudest outline of my 
theory, but to be brief, I can give you my opinion as to Lord 
Deringham’s mental condition, and my advice as to its 
maintenance, if you will place before me the latest work 
upon which he has been engaged. I hope I have made 
myself clear.” 

“ Perfectly,” Wolfenden answered. “ It sounds very 
reasonable and very interesting, but I am afraid that there 
are a few practical difficulties in the way. In the first 
place, my father does not show his work or any portion of 
it to any one. On the other hand he takes the most extra- 
ordinary precautions to maintain absolute secrecy with 
regard to it.” 

“ That,” Dr. Wilmot remarked, “ is rather a bad feature 
of the case. It is a difficulty which I should imagine you 
could get over, though. You could easily frame some 
excuse to get him away from his study for a short time and 
leave me there. Of course the affair is in your hands 
altogether, and I am presuming that you are anxious to 
have an opinion as to your father’s state of health. I am 
not in the habit of seeking patients,” he added, a little 
stiffly. “ I was interested in my friend Whitlett’s descrip- 
tion of the case, and anxious to apply my theories to it, as 
it happens to differ in some respects from anything I have 
met with lately. Further, I may add,” he continued, 
glancing at the clock, “ if anything is to be done it must be 
done quickly. . I have no time to spare.” 

“ You had better,” Wolfenden suggested, “ stay here for 
the night in any case. We will send you to the station, or 
into Cromer, as early as you like in the morning.” 

“Absolutely impossible,” Dr. Wilmot replied briefly. 
“ I am staying with friends in Cromer, and I have a con- 
sultation in town early to-morrow morning. You must 


122 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


really make up your minds at once whether you wish for my 
opinion or not.” 

“ I do not think,” Lady Deringham said, “ that we need 
hesitate for a moment about that ! ” 

Wolfenden looked at him doubtfully. There seemed to 
be no possibility of anything but advantage in accepting 
this offer, and yet in a sense he was sorry that it had been 
made. 

“ In case you should attach any special importance to 
your father’s manuscripts,” Dr. Wilmot remarked, with a 
note of sarcasm in his tone, “ I might add that it is not at 
all necessary for me to be alone in the study.” 

Wolfenden felt a little uncomfortable under the older 
man’s keen gaze. Neither did he altogether like having his 
thoughts read so accurately. 

“ I suppose,” he said, turning to his mother, “ you could 
manage to get him away from the library for a short 
time ? ” 

“ I could at least try,” she answered. “ Shall I ? ” 

“ I think,” he said, “ that as Dr. Wilmot has been good 
enough to go out of his way to call here, we must make an 
effort.” 

Lady Deringham left the room. 

Dr. Wilmot, whose expression of absolute impassiveness 
had not altered in the least during their discussion, turned 
towards Wolfenden. 

“ Have you yourself,” he said, “ never seen any of your 
father’s manuscripts ? Has he never explained the scheme 
of his work to you ? ” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ I know the central idea,” he answered — “ the weakness 
of our navy and coast defences, and that is about all I 
know. My father, even when he was an admiral on active 
service, took an absolutely pessimistic view of both. You 
may perhaps remember this. The Lords of the Admiralty 


MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 


1^3 


Used to consider him, I believe, the one great thorn in their 
sides.” 

Dr. Wilmot shook his head. 

“ I have never taken any interest in such matters,” he 
said. “My profession has been completely absorbing 
during the last ten years.” 

Wolfenden nodded. 

“ I know,” he remarked, “ that I used to read the news- 
papers and wonder why on earth my father took such pains 
to try and frighten everybody. But he is altogether changed 
now. He even avoids the subject, although I am quite sure 
that it is his one engrossing thought. It is certain that no 
one has ever given such time and concentrated energy to it 
before. If only his work was the work of a sane man I 
could understand it being very valuable.” 

“ Not the least doubt about it, I should say,” Dr. Wilmot 
replied carelessly. 

The door opened and Lady Deringham reappeared. 

“ I have succeeded,” she said. “ He is upstairs now. I 
will try and keep him there for half an hour. Wolfenden, 
will you take Dr. Wilmot into the study ? ” 

Dr. Wilmot rose with quiet alacrity. Wolfenden led the 
way down the long passage which led to the study. He 
himself was scarcely prepared for such signs of unusual 
labours as confronted them both when they opened the 
door. The round table in the centre of the room was piled 
with books and a loose heap of papers. A special rack 
was hung with a collection of maps and charts. There were 
nautical instruments upon the table, and compasses, as well 
as writing materials, and a number of small models of men- 
of-war. Mr. Blatherwick, who was sitting at the other side 
of the room busy with some copying, looked up in amaze- 
ment at the entrance of Wolfenden and a stranger upon what 
was always considered forbidden ground. 

Wolfenden .stepped forward at once to the table. A sheet 


124 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


of paper lay there on which the ink was scarcely yet dry. 
Many others were scattered about, almost undecipherable, 
with marginal notes and corrections in his father’s hand- 
writing. He pushed some of them towards his companion. 

You can help yourself,” he said. “ This seems to be 
his most recent work.” 

Dr. Wilmot seemed scarcely to hear him. He had 
turned the lamp up with quick fingers, and was leaning over 
those freshly written pages. Decidedly he was interested in 
the case. He stood quite still reading with breathless 
haste — the papers seemed almost to fly through his fingers. 
Wolfenden was a little puzzled. Mr. Blatherwick, who had 
been watching the proceedings with blank amazement, rose 
and came over towards them. 

“ You will excuse me. Lord Wolfenden,” he said, “ but if 
the admiral should come back and find a stranger with you 
looking over his work, he will ” 

“ It’s all right, Blatherwick,” Wolfenden interrupted, the 
more impatiently since he was far from comfortable himself. 
“ This gentleman is a physician.” 

The secretary resumed his seat. Dr. Wilmot was reading 
with lightning-like speed sheet after sheet, making frequent 
notes in a pocket-book which he had laid on the table 
before him. He was so absorbed that he did not seem to 
hear the sound of wheels coming up the avenue. 

Wolfenden walked to the window, and raising the curtain, 
looked out. He gave vent to a little exclamation of relief 
as he saw a familiar dogcart draw up at the hall door, and 
Dr. Whitlett’s famous mare pulled steaming on to her 
haunches. 

“ It is Dr. Whitlett,” he exclaimed. “ He has followed 
you up pretty soon.” 

The sheet which the physician was reading fluttered 
through his fingers. There was a very curious look in his 
face. He walked up to the window and looked out. 


MR. FRANKLIN WILMOT 


125 


“ So it is,” he remarked. “ I should like to see him at 
once for half a minute — then I shall have finished. I 
wonder whether you would mind going yourself and asking 
him to step this way ? ” 

Wolfenden turned immediately to leave the room. At 
the door he turned sharply round, attracted by a sudden 
noise and an exclamation from Blatherwick. Dr. Wilmot 
had disappeared ! Mr. Blatherwick was gazing at the 
window in amazement ! 

“ He’s gone, sir ! Clean out of the window — ^jumped it 
like a cat ! ” 

Wolfenden sprang to the curtains. The night wind was 
blowing into the room through the open casement. 
Fainter and fainter down the long avenue came the sound 
of galloping horses. Dr. Franklin Wilmot had certainly 
gone ! 

Wolfenden turned from the window to find himself face 
to face with Dr. Whitlett. 

“ What on earth is the matter with your friend Wilmot ? ” 
he exclaimed. “ He has just gone off through the window 
like a madman ! ” 

“ Wilmot ! ” the doctor exclaimed. “ I never knew any 
one of that name in my life. The fellow’s a rank im- 
postor ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


GENIUS OR MADNESS 

For a moment Wolfenden was speechless. Then, with a 
presence of mind which afterwards he marvelled at, he 
asked no more questions, but stepped up to the writing- 
table. 

“ Blather wick,” he said hurriedly, “we seem to have made 
a bad mistake. Will you try and rearrange these papers 
exactly as the admiral left them, and do not let him know 
that any one has entered the room or seen them.” 

Mr. Blatherwick commenced his task with trembling 
fingers. 

“I will do my best,” he said nervously. “But I am 
not supposed to touch anything upon this table at all. If 
the admiral finds me here, he will be very angry.” 

“ I will take the blame,” Wolfenden said. “ Do your best.” 

He took the country doctor by the arm and hurried him 
into the smoking-room. 

“This is a most extraordinary affair. Dr. Whitlett,” he 
said gravely. “ I presume that this letter, then, is a 
forgery ? ” 

The doctor took the note of introduction which Wilmot 
had brought, and adjusting his pince-nez, read it hastily 
through. 

“A forgery from the beginning to end,” he declared, 
turning it over and looking at it helplessly, “ I have nevei 
known any one of the name in my life ! ” 

126 


GENIUS OR MADNESS 


• 127 


“ It is written on notepaper stamped with your address,” 
Wolfenden remarked. “ It is also, I suppose, a fair imita- 
tion of your handwriting, for Lady Deringham accepted it 
as such ? ” 

The doctor nodded. 

“ I will tell you,” he said, “ all that I know of the affair. 
I started out to pay some calls this evening about six 
o’clock. As I turned into the main road I met a strange 
brougham and pair of horses being driven very slowly. 
There was a man who looked like a gentleman’s servant 
sitting by the side of the coachman, and as I passed them 
the latter asked a question, and I am almost certain that I 
heard my name mentioned. I was naturally a little curious, 
and I kept looking back all along the road to see which way 
they turned after passing my house. As a matter of fact, 
although I pulled up and waited in the middle of the road, 
I saw no more of the carriage. When at last I drove on, I 
knew that one of two things must have happened. Either 
the carriage must have come to a standstill and remained 
stationary in the road, or it must have turned in at my 
gate. The hedge was down a little higher up the road, and 
I could see distinctly that they had not commenced to 
climb the hill. It seemed very odd to me, but I had an 
important call to make, so I drove on and got through as 
quickly as I could. On my way home I passed your north 
entrance, and, looking up the avenue, I saw the same 
brougham on its way up to the house. I had half a mind 
to run in then — I wish now that I had — but instead of 
doing so I drove quickly home. There I found that a 
gentleman had called a few minutes after I had left home, 
and finding me out had asked permission to leave a note. 
The girl had shown him into the study, and he had remained 
there about ten minutes. Afterwards he had let himself 
out and driven away. When I looked for the note for 
me there was none, but the writing materials had been 


128 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


used, and a sheet of notepaper was gone. I happened to 
remember that there was only one out. The whole thing 
seemed to me so singular that I ordered the dogcart out 
again and drove straight over here.” 

“ For which,” Wolfenden remarked, “ we ought to feel 
remarkably grateful. So far the thing is plain enough ! 
But what on earth did that man, whoever he was, expect 
to find in my father’s study that he should make an 
elaborate attempt like this to enter it ? He was no common 
thief!” 

Dr. Whitlett shook his head. He had no elucidation to 
offer. The thing was absolutely mysterious. 

“ Your father himself,” he said slowly, “ sets a very high 
value upon the result of his researches ! ” 

“ And on the other hand,” Wolfenden retorted promptly, 
“ you, and my mother, Mr. Blatherwick, and even the girl 
who has been copying for him, have each assured me that 
his work is rubbish ! You four comprise all who have 
seen any part of it, and I understand that you have come 
to the conclusion that, if not insane, he is at least suffering 
from some sort of mania. Now, how are we to reconcile 
this with the fact of an attempted robbery this evening, and 
the further fact that a heavy bribe has been secretly offered 
to Blatherwick to copy only a few pages of his later 
manuscripts ? ” 

Dr. Whitlett started. 

“ Indeed ! ” he exclaimed. “ When did you hear of 
this?” 

“ Only this afternoon,” Wolfenden answered. “ Blather- 
wick brought me the letter himself. What I cannot 
understand is, how these documents could ever become a 
marketable commodity. Yet we may look upon it now as 
an absolute fact, that there are persons — and no ordinary 
thieves either ! — conspiring to obtain possession of them.” 

“Wolfenden!” 


GENIUS OR MADNESS 


129 


The two men started round. The Countess was standing 
in the doorway. She was pale as death, and her eyes were 
full of fear. 

“ Who was that man ? ” she cried. “ What has hap- 
pened ? ” 

“He was an impostor, I am afraid,” Wolfenden an- 
swered. “The letter from Dr. Whitlett was forged. He 
has bolted.” 

She looked towards the doctor. 

“ Thank God that you are here ! ” she cried. “ I am 
frightened ! There are some papers and models missing, 
and the admiral has found it out ! I am afraid he is going 
to have a fit. Please come into the library. He must not 
be left alone ! ” 

They both followed her down the passage and through 
the half-opened door. In the centre of the room Lord 
Deringham was standing, his pale cheeks scarlet with 
passion, his fists convulsively clenched. He turned sharply 
round to face them, and his eyes flashed with anger. 

“ Nothing shall make me believe that this room has not 
been entered, and my papers tampered with ! ” he stormed 
out. “ Where is that reptile Blatherwick ? I left my 
morning’s work and two models on the desk there, less 
than half an hour ago ; both the models are gone and one 
of the sheets ! Either Blatherwick has stolen them, or the 
room has been entered during my absence ! Where is that 
hound ? ” 

“ He is in his room,” Lady Deringham answered. “ He 
ran past me on the stairs trembling all over, and he has 
locked himself in and piled up the furniture against the 
door. You have frightened him to death ! ” 

“ It is scarcely possible ” Dr. Whitlett began. 

“ Don’t lie, sir ! ” the admiral thundered out. “ You are 
a pack of fools and old women ! You are as ignorant as 
rabbits ! You know no more than the kitchenmaids what 

9 


130 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


has been growing and growing within these walls. I tell 
you that my work of the last few years, placed in certain 
hands, would alter the whole face of Europe — aye, of 
Christendom ! There are men in this country to-day whose 
object is to rob me, and you, my own household, seem 
to be crying them welcome, bidding them come and help 
themselves, as though the labour of my life was worth no 
more than so many sheets of waste paper. You have let 
a stranger into this room to-day, and if he had not been 
disturbed, God knows what he might not have carried away 
with him ! ” 

“We have been very foolish,” Lady Deringham said 
pleadingly. “ We will set a watch now day and night. 
We will run no more risks ! I swear it ! You can believe 
me, Horace ! ” 

“ Aye, but tell me the truth now,” he cried. “ Some one 
has been in this room and escaped through the window. I 
learnt as much as that from that blithering idiot, Blather- 
wick. I want to know who he was ? ” 

She glanced towards the doctor. He nodded his head 
slightly. Then she went up to her husband and laid her 
hand upon his shoulders. 

“ Horace, you are right,” she said. “ It is no use trying 
to keep it from you. A man did impose upon us with a 
forged letter. He could not have been here more than 
five minutes, though. We found him out almost at once. 
It shall never happen again ! ” 

The wisdom of telling him was at once apparent. His 
face positively shone with triumph ! He became quite 
calm, and the fierce glare, which had alarmed them all so 
much, died out of his eyes. The confession was a triumph 
fior him. He was gratified. 

“ I knew it,” he declared, with positive good humour. 
•‘I have warned you of this all the time. Now perhaps 
you will believe me ! Thank God that it was not Duchesne 


GENIUS OR MADNESS 


131 

himself. I should not be surprised, though, if it were 
not one of his emissaries ! If Duchesne comes,” he 
muttered to himself, his face growing a shade paler, “ God 
help us ! ” 

“We will be more careful now,” Lady Deringham said. 
“ No one shall ever take us by surprise again. We will 
have special watchmen, and bars on all the windows.” 

“ From this moment,” the admiral said slowly, “ I shall 
never leave this room until my work is ended, and handed 

over to Lord S ’s care. If I am robbed England is in 

danger ! There must be no risks. I will have a sofa- 
bedstead down, and please understand that all my meals 
must be served here ! Heggs and Morton must take it in 
turns to sleep in the room, and there must be a watchman 
outside. Now will you please all go away ? ” he added, with 
a little wave of his hand. “ I have to reconstruct what has 
been stolen from me through your indiscretion. Send me 
in some coffee at eleven o’clock, and a box of cartridges 
you will find in my dressing-room.” 

They went away together. Wolfenden was grave and 
mystified. Nothing about his father’s demeanour or 
language had suggested insanity. What if they were all 
wrong — if the work to which the best years of his life had 
gone was really of the immense importance he claimed for 
it? Other people thought so! The slight childishness, 
which was obvious in a great many of his actions, was a 
very different thing from in.sanity. Blatherwick might be 
deceived — Blanche was just as likely to have looked upon 
any technical work as rubbish. Whitlett was only a 
country practitioner — even his mother might have exag- 
gerated his undoubted eccentricities. At any rate, one 
thing was certain. There were people outside who made 
a bold enough bid to secure the fruit of his father’s labours. 
It was his duty to see that the attempt, if repeated, was still 
unsuccessful. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS 

At very nearly the same moment as the man who had 
called himself Dr. Wilmot had leaped from the library 
window of Deringham Hall, Mr. Sabin sat alone in his 
sanctum waiting for a visitor. The room was quite a small 
one on the ground floor of the house, but was furnished 
with taste and evident originality in the Moorish fashion. 
Mr. Sabin himself was ensconced in an easy chair drawn 
close up to the fire, and a thin cloud of blue smoke was 
stealing up from a thick, Egyptian cigarette which was 
burning away between his fingers. His head was resting 
upon the delicate fingers of his left hand, his dark eyes were 
fixed upon the flaming coals. He was deep in thought. 

“ A single mistake now,” he murmured softly, “ and 
farewell to the labour of years. A single false step, and 
goodbye to all our dreams ! To-night will decide it ! In 
a few minutes I must say Yes or No to Knigenstein. I 
think — I am almost sure I shall say Yes ! Bah ! ” 

The frown on his forehead grew more marked. The 
cigarette burned on between his fingers, and a long grey ash 
fell to the floor. He was permitting himself the luxury of 
deep thought. All his life he had been a schemer ; a 
builder of mighty plans, a great power in the destinies of 
great people. To-night he knew that he had reached the 
crisis of a career, in many respects marvellous. To-night 

he would take the first of those few final steps on to the 

132. 


SCHEMING OF GIANTS 


133 


desire of his life. It only rested with him to cast the die. 
He must make the decision and abide by it. His own life’s 
ambition and the destinies of a mighty nation hung in the 
balance. Had he made up his mind which way to turn the 
scale ? Scarcely even yet ! There were so many things ! 

He sat up with a start. There was a knock at the door. 
He caught up the evening paper, and the cigarette smoke 
circled about his head. He stirred a cup of coffee by his 
side. The hard lines in his face had all relaxed. There 
was no longer any anxiety. He looked up and greeted 
pleasantly — with a certain deference, too — the visitor who 
was being ushered in. He had no appearance of having 
been engaged in anything more than a casual study of the 
St. Jameses Gazette. 

“ A gentleman, sir,” the stolid-looking servant had 
announced briefly. No name had been mentioned. Mr. 
Sabin, when he rose and held out his hand, did not address 
his visitor directly. He was a tall, stout man, with an iron- 
grey moustache and the remains of a military bearing. 
When the servant had withdrawn and the two men were 
alone, he unbuttoned his overcoat. Underneath he wore 
a foreign uniform, ablaze with orders. Mr. Sabin glanced 
at them and smiled. 

“ You are going to Arlington Street,” he remarked. 

The other man nodded. 

“ When I leave here,” he said. 

Then there was a short silence. Each man seemed to 
be waiting for the other to open the negotiations. Eventu- 
ally it was Mr. Sabin who did so. 

“I have been carefully through the file of papers you 
sent me,” he remarked. 

“ Yes ! ” 

“ There is no doubt but that, to a certain extent, the anti- 
English feeling of which you spoke exists ! I have made 
other inquiries, and so far I am convinced 1 ” 


134 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ So ! The seed is sown ! It has been sprinkled with 
a generous hand ! Believe me, my friend, that for this 
country there are in store very great surprises. I speak as 
one who knows ! I do know ! So ! ” 

Mr. Sabin was thoughtful. He looked into the fire and 
spoke musingly. 

“Yet the ties of kindred and common origin are strong,” 
he said. “It is hard to imagine an open rupture between 
the two great Saxon nations of the world ! ” 

“ The ties of kindred,” said Mr. Sabin’s visitor, “ are not 
worth the snap of a finger ! So ! ” 

He snapped his fingers with a report as sharp as a pistol- 
shot. Mr. Sabin started in his chair. 

“ It is the ties of kindred,” he continued, “ which breed 
irritability, not kindliness ! I tell you, my friend, that there 
is a great storm gathering. It is not for nothing that the 
great hosts of my country are ruled by a war lord ! I tell 
you that we are arming to the teeth, silently, swiftly, and 
with a purpose. It may seem to you a small thing, but let 
me tell you this — we are a jealous nation ! And we have 
cause for jealousy. In whatever part of the world we put 
down our foot, it is trodden on by our ubiquitous cousins ! 
Wherever we turn to colonise, we are too late ; England has 
already secured the finest territory, the most fruitful of the 
land. We must either take her leavings or go a-begging ! 
Wherever we would develope, we are held back by the com- 
mercial and colonising genius — it amounts to that — of this 
wonderful nation. The world of to-day is getting cramped. 
There is no room«/or a growing England and a growing 
Germany ! So ! one must give way, and Germany is 
beginning to mutter that it shall not always be her sons 
who go to the wall. You say that France is our natural 
enemy. I deny it ! France is our historical enemy — 
nothing else ! In military circles to-day a war with Eng- 
land would be wildly, hysterically popular ; and sooner or 


THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS 


135 


later a war with England is as certain to come as the rising 
of the sun and the waning of the moon ! I can tell you 
even now where the first blow will be struck ! It is fixed ! 
It is to come ! So ! ” 

“ Not in Europe,” Mr. Sabin said. 

“ Not in Europe or in Asia ( The war-torch will be 
kindled in Africa ! ” 

“ The Transvaal ! ” 

Mr. Sabin’s visitor smiled. 

“ It is in Africa,” he said, “ that English monopoly has 
been most galling to my nation. We too feel the burden 
of over-population ; we too have our young blood making 
itself felt throughout the land, eager, impetuous, thirsting 
for adventure and freedom. We need new countries where 
these may develop, and at once ease and strengthen our 
fatherland. I have seen it written in one of the great 
English reviews that my country has not the instinct for 
colonisation. It is false ! We have the instinct and the 
desire, but not the opportunity. England is like a great 
octopus. She is ever on the alert, thrusting out her suckers, 
and drawing in for herself every new land where riches lay, 
No country has ever been so suitable for us as Africa, and 
behold — it is as I have said. Already England has grabbed 
the finest and most to be desired of the land — she has it 
now in her mind to take one step further and acquire the 
whole. But my country has no mind to suffer it ! We 
have played second fiddle to a weaker Power long enough. 
We want Africa, my friend, and to my mind and the mind 
of my master, Africa is worth having aj: all costs — listen^ 
even at the cost of war ! ” 

Mr. Sabin was silent for a moment. There was a faint 
smile upon his lips. It was a situation such as he loved. 
He began to feel indeed that he was making history. 

“ You have convinced me,” he said at last. “ You have 
taught me how to look upon European politics with new 


136 


SlYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


eyes. But there remains one important question. Sup- 
posing I break off my negotiations in other quarters, are 
you willing to pay my price ? ” 

The Ambassador waved his hand ! It was a trifle ! 

“ If what you give fulfils your own statements,” he said, 
“you cannot ask a price which my master would not 

pay!” 

Mr. Sabin moved a little in his chair. His eyes were 
bright. A faint tinge of colour was in his olive cheeks. 

“ Four years of my life,” he said, “ have been given to 
the perfecting of one branch only of my design ; the other, 
which is barely completed, is the work of the only man in 
England competent to handle such a task. The combined 
result will be infallible. When I place in your hands a 
simple roll of papers and a small parcel, the future of this 
country is absolutely and entirely at your mercy. That is 
beyond question or doubt. To whomsoever I give my secret, 
I give over the destinies of England. But the price is 
a mighty one ! ” 

“ Name it,” the Ambassador said quietly. “ A million, 
two millions ? Rank ? What is it ? ” 

“ For myself,” Mr. Sabin said, “ nothing ! ” 

The other man started. “ Nothing ! ” 

“ Absolutely nothing ! ” 

The Ambassador raised his hand to his forehead. 

“ You confuse me,” he said. 

“ My conditions,” Mr. Sabin said, “ are these. The con- 
quest of France and the restoration of the monarchy, in the 
persons of Prince Henri and his cousin. Princess Helene 
of Bourbon ! ” 

“ Ach ! ” 

The little interjection shot from the Ambassador’s lips 
with sharp, staccato emphasis ! Then there was a silence — 
a brief, dramatic silence ! The two men sat motionless, 
the eyes of each fastened upon the other. The Ambassador 


THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS 


137 


was breathing quickly, and his eyes sparkled with excite- 
ment. Mr. Sabin was pale and calm, yet there were traces 
of nervous exhilaration in his quivering lips and bright 
eyes. 

“Yes, you were right; you were right indeed,” the 
Ambassador said slowly. “It is a great price that you 
ask ! ” 

Mr. Sabin laughed very softly. 

“ Think,” he said. “ Weigh the matter well ! Mark first 
this fact. If what I give you has not the power I claim for 
it, our contract is at an end. I ask for nothing ! I accept 
nothing. Therefore, you may assume that before you pay 
my price your own triumph is assured. Think ! Reflect 
carefully ! What will you owe to me ! The humiliation of 
England, the acquisition of her colonies, the destruction 
of her commerce, and such a war indemnity as only the 
richest power on earth could pay. These things you 'gain. 
Then you are the one supreme Power in Europe. France 
is at your mercy ! I will tell you why. The Royalist party 
have been gaining strength year by year, month by month, 
minute by minute ! Proclaim your intentions boldly. The 
country will crumble up before you ! It would be but a half- 
hearted resistance. France has not the temperament of 
a people who will remain for ever faithful to a democratic 
form of government. At heart she is aristocratic. The old 
nobility have a life in them which you cannot dream of. 
I know, for I have tested it. It has been weary waiting, 
but the time is ripe ! France is ready for the cry of ‘ Vive 
le Roi I Vive la Monarchie I ’ I who tell you these things 
have proved them. I have felt the pulse of my country, 
and I love her too well to mistake the symptoms ! ” 

The Ambassador was listening with greedy ears — he was 
breathing hard through his teeth ! It was easy to see that 
the glamour of the thing had laid hold of him. He foresaw 
fpr himself an immortal name, for his country a greatness 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


138 

beyond the wildest dreams of her most sanguine ministers. 
Bismarck himself had planned nothing like this ! Yet he 
did not altogether lose his common sense. 

“ But Russia,” he objected, “ she would never sanction 
a German invasion of France.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled scornfully. 

“You are a great politician, my dear Baron, and you say 
a thing like that ! You amaze me ! But of course the 
whole affair is new to you ; you have not thought it out as 
I have done. Whatever happens in Europe, Russia will 
maintain the isolation for which geography and tempera- 
ment have marked her out. She would not stir one finger 
to help France. Why should she ? What could France give 
her in return ? What would she gain by plunging into an 
exhausting war? To the core of his heart and the tips 
of his finger-nails the Muscovite is selfish ! Then, again, 
consider this. You are not going to ruin France as you 
did before ; you are going to establish a new dynasty, and 
not waste the land or exact a mighty tribute. Granted that 
sentiments of friendship exist between Russia and France, 
do you not think that Russia would not sooner see France 
a monarchy ? Do you think that she would stretch out her 
little finger to aid a tottering republic and keep back a 
king from the throne of France ? Mon Dieu ! Never ! ” 

Mr. Sabin’s face was suddenly illuminated. A fire flashed 
in his dark eyes, and a note of fervent passion quivered life- 
like in his vibrating voice. His manner had all the abandon 
of one pleading a great cause, nursed by a great heart. He 
was a patriot or a poet, surely not only a politician or a mere 
intriguing adventurer. For a moment he suffered his en- 
thusiasm to escape him. Then the mask was as suddenly 
dropped. He was himself again, calm, convincing, impene- 
trable. 

As the echoes of his last interjection died away there 
was a silence between the twp men. It was the Ambassador 


THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS 


m 


at last who broke it. He was looking curiously at his com- 
panion. 

“ I must confess,” he said slowly, “ that you have 
fascinated me ! You have done more, you have made 
me see dreams and possibilities which, set down upon 
paper, I should have mocked at. Mr. Sabin, I can no 
longer think of you as a person — you are a personage ! We 
are here alone, and I am as secret as the grave ; be so kind 
as to lift the veil of your incognito. I can no longer think 
of you as Mr. Sabin. Who are you ? ” 

Mr. Sabin smiled a curious smile, and lit a cigarette from 
the open box before him. 

“That,” he said, pushing the box across the table, “you 
may know in good time if, in commercial parlance, we deal. 
Until that point is decided, I am Mr. Sabin. I do not even 
admit that it is an incognito.” 

“And yet,” the Ambassador said, with a curious lighten- 
ing of his face, as though recollection had suddenly been 
vouchsafed to him, “ I fancy that if I were to call you ” 

Mr. Sabin’s protesting hand was stretched across the table. 

“ Excuse me,” he interrupted, “ let it remain between us 
as it is now ! My incognito is a necessity for the present. 
Let it continue to be — Mr. Sabin ! Now answer me. All 
has been said that can be said between us. What is your 
opinion ? ” 

The Ambassador rose from his seat and stood upon the 
hearthrug with his back to the fire. There was a streak 
of colour upon his sallow cheeks, and his eyes shone 
brightly underneath his heavy brows. He had removed 
his spectacles and was swinging them lightly between his 
thumb and forefinger. 

“I will be frank with you,” he said. “My opinion is 
a favourable one. I shall apply for leave of absence to- 
morrow. In a week all that you have said shall be laid 
before my master. Such as my personal influence is, it will 


140 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


be exerted on behalf of the acceptance of your scheme. 
The greatest difficulty will be, of course, in persuading the 
Emperor of its practicability — in plain words, that what 
you say you have to offer will have the importance which 
you attribute to it.” 

“ If you fail in that,” Mr. Sabin said, also rising, “ send 
for me ! But bear this in mind, if my scheme should after 
all be ineffective, if it should fail in the slightest detail to 
accomplish all that I claim for it, what can you lose ? The 
payment is conditional upon its success ; the bargain is all 
in your favour. I should not offer such terms unless I held 
certain cards. Remember, if there are difficulties send for 
me ! ” 

“ I will do so,” the Ambassador said as he buttoned his 
overcoat. “ Now give me a limit of time for our decision.” 

“ Fourteen days,” Mr. Sabin said. “ How I shall tem- 
porise with Lobenski so long I cannot tell. But I will give 
you fourteen days from to-day. It is ample ! ” 

The two men exchanged farewells and parted. Mr. 
Sabin, with a cigarette between his teeth, and humming 
now and then a few bars from one of Verdi’s operas, com- 
menced to carefully select a bagful of golf clubs from a little 
pile which stood in one corner of the room. Already they 
bore signs of considerable use, and he handled them with 
the care of an expert, swinging each one gently, and hesi- 
tating for some time between a wooden or a metal putter, 
and longer still between the rival claims of a bulger and 
a flat-headed brassey. At last the bag was full ; he resumed 
his seat and counted them out carefully. 

“Ten,” he said to himself softly. “Too many; it looks 
amateurish.” 

Some of the steel heads were a little dull ; he took 
a piece of chamois leather from the pocket of the bag and 
began polishing them. As they grew brighter he whistled 
softly to himself. This time the opera tune seemed to have 
escaped him ; he was whistling the “ Marseillaise ! ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“ HE HAS GONE TO THE EMPEROR ! ” 

The Ambassador, when he left Mr. Sabin’s house, stepped 
into a hired hansom and drove off towards Arlington Street. 
A young man who had watched him come out, from the 
other side of the way, walked swiftly to the corner of the 
street and stepped into a private brougham which was 
waiting there. 

“ To the Embassy,” he said. “ Drive fast ! ” 

The carriage set him down in a few minutes at the house 
to which Densham and Harcutt had followed Mr. Sabin on 
the night of their first meeting with him. He walked 
swiftly into the hall. 

“ Is his Excellency within ? ” he asked a tall servant 
in plain dress who came forward to meet him. 

“Yes, Monsieur Felix,” the man answered; “he is dining 
very late to-night — in fact, he has not yet risen from the table.” 

“ Who is with him ? ” Felix asked. 

“ It is a very small party. Madame la Princesse has just 
arrived from Paris, and his Excellency has been waiting for 
her.” 

He mentioned a few more names ; there was no one 
of importance. Felix walked into the hall-porter’s office 
and scribbled a few words on half a sheet of paper, which 
he placed in an envelope and carefully sealed. 

“ Let his Excellency have this privately and at once,” he 
said to the man ; “ I will go into the waiting room.” 


142 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


The man withdrew with the note, and Felix crossed the 
hall and entered a small room nearly opposite. It was 
luxuriously furnished with easy chairs and divans; there 
were cigars, and cigarettes, and decanters upon a round 
table. Felix took note of none of these things, nor did he 
sit down. He stood with his hands behind him, looking 
steadily into the fire. His cheeks were almost livid, save 
for a single spot of burning colour high up on his cheek- 
bone. His fingers twitched nervously, his eyes were dry 
and restlessly bright. He was evidently in a state of great 
excitement. In less than two minutes the door opened, and 
a tall, distinguished-looking man, grey headed, but with 
a moustache still almost black, came softly into the room. 
His breast glittered with orders, and he was in full Court 
dress. He nodded kindly to the young man, who greeted 
him with respect. 

“ Is it anything important, Felix ? ” he asked ; “ you are 
looking tired.” 

“ Yes, your Excellency, it is important,” Felix answered ; 
** it concerns the man Sabin.” 

The Ambassador nodded. 

‘‘ Well,” he said, “ what of him ? You have not been 
seeking to settle accounts with him, I trust, after our 
conversation, and your promise?” 

Felix shook his head. 

“ No,” he said. “ I gave my word and I shall keep it ! 
Perhaps you may some day regret that you interfered 
between us.” 

“ I think not,” the Prince replied. “ Your services are 
valuable to me, my dear Felix; and in this country, more 
than any other, deeds of violence are treated with scant 
ceremony, and affairs of honour are not understood. No, 

I saved you from yourself for myself. It was an excellent 
thing for both of us.” 

*‘l trust/’ Felix repeated, “that your Excellency may 


HAS GONJS TO THE EMPEROk r 143 

always think so. But to be brief. The report from 
Cartienne is to hand.” 

The Ambassador nodded and listened expectantly. 

“ He confirms fully,” Felix continued, “ the value of the 
documents which are in question. How he obtained access 
to them he does not say, but his report is absolute. He 
considers that they justify fully the man Sabin’s version 
of them.” 

The Prince smiled. 

“ My own judgment is verified,” he said. “ I believed in 
the man from the first. It is good. By the bye, have you 
seen anything of Mr. Sabin to-day ? ” 

“ I have come straight,” Felix said, “ from watching his 
house.” 

“Yes?” 

“The Baron von Knigenstein has been there alone, 
incognito, for more than an hour. I watched him go in — 
and watched him out.” 

The Prince’s genial smile vanished. His face grew 
suddenly as dark as thunder. The Muscovite crept out 
unawares. There was a fierce light in his eyes, and his 
face was like the face of a wolf ; yet his voice when he 
spoke was low. 

“ So ho ! ” he said softly. “ Mr. Sabin is doing a little 
flirting, is he ? Ah ! ” 

“ I believe,” the young man answered slowly, “ that 
he has advanced still further than that. The Baron was 
there for an hour. He came out walking like a young man. 
He was in a state of great excitement.” 

The Prince sat down and stroked the side of his face 
thoughtfully. 

“ The great elephant ! ” he muttered. “ Fancy such a 
creature calling himself a diplomatist! It is well, Felix,” 
he added, “that I had finished my dinner, otherwise 
you would certainly have spoilt it. If they have met like 


t44 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


this, there is no end to the possibilities of it. I must 
see Sabin immediately. It ought to be easy to make 
him understand that I am not to be trifled with. Find out 
where he is to-night, Felix ; I must follow him.” 

Felix took up his hat. 

“ I will be back,” he said, “ in half an hour.” 

The Prince returned to his guests, and Felix drove 
off. When he returned his chief was waiting for him 
alone. 

“ Mr. Sabin,” Felix announced, “ left town half an hour 
ago.” 

“ For abroad ! ” the Prince exclaimed, with flashing eyes. 
“ He has gone to Germany ! ” 

Felix shook his head. 

“ On the contrary,” he said ; “ he has gone down into 
Norfolk to play golf” 

“Into Norfolk to play golf ! ” the Prince repeated in 
a tone of scornful wonder. “ Did you believe a story 
like that, Felix? Rubbish!” 

Felix smiled slightly. 

“ It is quite true,” he said. “ Labanoff makes no mis- 
takes, and he saw him come out of his house, take his ticket 
at King's Cross, and actually leave the station.” 

“ Are you sure that it is not a blind? ” the Prince asked 
incredulously. 

Felix shook his head. 

“It is quite true, your Excellency,” he said. “ If you 
knew the man as well as I do, you would not be surprised. 
He is indeed a very extraordinary person — he does these 
sort of things. Besides, he wants to keep out of the way.” 

The Prince’s face darkened. 

“ He will find my way a little hard to get out of,” he said 
fiercely. “ Go and get some dinner, Felix, and then try 
and find out whether Knigenstein has any notion of leaving 
England. He will not trust a matter like this to corre- 


HAS GONE TO THE EMPEROR/ 


I4S 


spondence. Stay — I know how to manage it. I will write 
and ask him to dine here next week. You shall take 
the invitation.” 

“ He will be at Arlington Street,” Felix remarked. 

“Well, you can take it on to him there,” the Prince 
directed. “ Go first to his house and ask for his where- 
abouts. They will tell you Arlington Street. You will not 
know, of course, the contents of the letter you carry ; your 
instructions were simply to deliver it and get an answer. 
Good ! you will do that.” 

The Prince, while he talked, was writing the note. 

Felix thrust it into his pocket and went out. In less 
than half an hour he was back. The Baron had returned to 
the German Embassy unexpectedly before going to Arling- 
ton Street, and Felix had caught him there. The Prince 
tore open the answer, and read it hastily through. 

“The German Embassy, 

“ Wednesday evening, 

“ Alas ! my dear Prince, had I been able, nothing could 
have given me so much pleasure as to have joined your 
little party, but, unfortunately, this wretched climate, which 
we both so justly loathe, has upset my throat again, and I 
have too much regard for my life to hand myself over to the 
English doctors. Accordingly, all being well, I go to Berlin 
to-morrow night to consult our own justly-famed Dr. 
Steinlaus. 

“Accept, my dear Prince, this expression of my most 
sincere regret, and believe me, yours most sincerely, 

“Karl von Knigenstein.” 

“ The doctor whom he has gone to consult is no man of 
medicine,” the Prince said thoughtfully. “ He has gone to 
the Emperor.” 


zo 


CHAPTER XIX 


wolfenden’s love-making 
**Lord Wolfenden?” 

He laughed at her surprise, and took off his cap. He was 
breathless, for he had been scrambling up the steep side of 
the hill on which she was standing, looking steadfastly out 
to sea. Down in the valley from which he had come a 
small boy with a bag of golf clubs on his back was standing, 
making imaginary swings at the ball which lay before him. 

“ I saw you from below,” he explained. “ I couldn’t help 
coming up. You don’t mind ? ” 

“ No ; I am glad to see you,” she said simply. “ You 
startled me, that is all. I did not hear you coming, and I 
had forgotten almost where I was. I was thinking.” 

He stood by her side, his cap still in his hand, facing the 
strong sea wind. Again he was conscious of that sense of 
extreme pleasure which had always marked his chance 
meetings with her. This time he felt perhaps that there 
was some definite reason for it. There was something in 
her expression, when she had turned so swiftly round, which 
seemed to tell him that her first words were not altogether 
meaningless. She was looking a little pale, and he fancied 
also a little sad. There was an inexpressible wistfulness 
about her soft, dark eyes ; the light and charming gaiety of 
her manner, so un-English and so attractive to him, had 
given place to quite another mood. Whatever her thoughts 
might have been when he had first seen her there, her tall, 

1^6 


WOLFENDEN'S LOVE-MAKING 


H7 


slim figure outlined so clearly against the abrupt sky line, 
they were at all events scarcely pleasant ones. He felt that 
his sudden appearance had not been unwelcome to her, and 
he was unreasonably pleased. 

“You are still all alone,” he remarked. “ Has Mr. Sabin 
not arrived ? ” 

She shook her head. 

“ I am all alone, and I am fearfully and miserably dull. 
This place does not attract me at all ; not at this time of 
the year. I have not heard from my uncle. He may be 
here at any moment.” 

There was no time like the present. He was suddenly 
bold. It was an opportunity which might never be vouch- 
safed to him again. 

“ May I come with you — a little way along the cliffs ? ” 
he asked. 

She looked at him and hesitated. More than ever he 
was aware of some subtle change in her. It was as though 
her mental attitude towards him had adapted itself in some 
way to this new seriousness of demeanour. It was written in 
her features — his eyes read it eagerly. A certain aloofness, 
almost hauteur, about the lines of her mouth, creeping out 
even in her most careless tones, and plainly manifest in the 
carriage of her head, was absent. She seemed immeasur- 
ably nearer to him. She was softer and more womanly. 
Even her voice in its new and more delicate notes betrayed 
the change. Perhaps it was only a mood, yet he would 
take advantage of it. 

“What about your golf?” she said, motioning down into 
the valley where his antagonist was waiting. 

“ Oh, I can easily arrange that,” he declared cheerfully. 
“Fortunately I was playing the professional and he will 
not mind leaving off.” 

He waved to his caddie, and scribbled a few lines on the 
back of a card. 


148 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


\ 

** Give that to McPherson,” he said. “ You can clean 
my clubs and put them in my locker. I shall not be 
playing again this morning.” 

The boy disappeared down the hill. They stood for a 
moment side by side. 

“ I have spoilt your game,” she said. “ I am sorry.” 

He laughed. 

“I think you know,” he said boldly, “that I would 
rather spend five minutes with you than a day at golf.” 

She moved on with a smile at the corners of her lips. 

“ What a downright person you are ! ” she said. “ But 
honestly to-day I am not in the mood to be alone. I am 
possessed with an uneasy spirit of sadness. I am afraid of 
my thoughts.” 

“ I am only sorry,” he said, “that you should have any 
that are not happy ones. Don’t you think perhaps that 
you are a little lonely? You seem to have so few friends.” 

“ It is not that,” she answered. “ I have many and very 
dear friends, and it is only for a little time that I am 
separated from them. It is simply that I am not used to 
solitude, and I am becoming a creature of moods and pre- 
sentiments. It is very foolish that I give way to them; 
but to-day I am miserable. You must stretch out that 
strong hand of yours, my friend, and pull me up.” 

“ I will do my best,” he said. “ I am afraid I cannot 
claim that there is anything in the shape of affinity between 
us ; for to-day I am particularly happy.” 

She met his eyes briefly, and looked away seawards with 
the ghost of a sorrowful smile upon her lips. Her words 
sounded like a warning. 

“ Do not be sure,” she said. “ It may not last.” 

“ It will last,” he said, “ so long as you choose. For 
to-day you are the mistress of my moods ! ” 

“ Then I am very sorry for you,” she said earnestly. 

He laughed it off, but her words brought a certain 


WOLFENDEN'S LOVE-MAKING 


149 


depression with them. He went on to speak of something 
else. 

“ I have been thinking about you this morning,” he said. 
“ If your uncle is going to play golf here, it will be very 
dull for you. Would you care for my mother to come and 
see you ? She would be delighted, I am sure, for it is dull 
for her too, and she is fond of young people. If you ” 

He stopped short. She was shaking her head slowly. 
The old despondency was back in her face. Her eyes were 
full of trouble. She laid her delicately gloved fingers upon 
his arm. 

“ My friend,” she said, “ it is very kind of you to think 
of it — but it is impossible. I cannot tell you why as I 
would wish. But at present I do not desire any acquaint- 
ances. I must not, in fact, think of it. It would give me 
great pleasure to know your mother. Only I must not. 
Believe me that it is impossible.” 

^^'^olfenden was a little hurt — a good deal mystified. It 
was a very odd thing. He was not in the least a snob, but 
he knew that the visit of the Countess of Deringham, whose 
name was still great in the social world, was not a thing to 
be refused without grave reasons by a girl in the position of 
Mr. Sabin’s niece. The old question came back to him 
with an irresistible emphasis. Who were these people? 
He looked at her furtively. He was an observant man in 
the small details of a woman’s toilette, and he knew that he 
had never met a girl better turned out than his present 
companion. The cut of her tailor-made gown was perfec- 
tion, her gloves and boots could scarcely have come from 
anywhere but Paris. She carried herself too with a perfect 
ease and indefinable distinction which could only have 
come to her by descent. She was a perfect type of the 
woman of breeding — unrestrained, yet aristocratic to the 
tips of her finger-nails. 

He sighed as he looked away from her. 


MYSTERIOUS MR SABIM 


150 

“ You are a very mysterious young woman,” he said, with 
a forced air of gaiety. 

“ I am afraid that I am,” she admitted regretfully. “ I 
can assure you that I am very tired of it. But — it will not 
last for very much longer.” 

“ You are really going away, then ? ” he asked quickly. 

“Yes. We shall not be in England much longer.” 

“ You are going for good ? ” he asked. “ I mean, to 
remain away?” 

“ When we go,” she said, “ it is very doubtful if ever I 
shall set my foot on English soil again.” 

He drew a quick breath. It was his one chance, then. 
Her last words must be his excuse for such precipitation. 
They had scrambled down through an opening in the cliffs, 
and there was no one else in sight. Some instinct seemed 
to tell her what was coming. She tried to talk, but she 
could not. His hand had closed upon hers, and she had 
not the strength to draw it away. It was so very English 
this sudden wooing. No one had ever dared to touch her 
fingers before without first begging permission. 

“ Don’t you know — Helene — that I love you ? I want 
you to live in England — to be my wife. Don’t say that 
I haven’t a chance. I know that I ought not to have 
spoken yet, but you are going away so soon, and I am 
so afraid that I might not see you again alone. Don’t 
stop me, please. I am not asking you now for your love. 
I know that it is too soon — to hope for that — altogether ! 
I only want you to know, and to be allowed to hope.” 

“ You must not. It is impossible.” 

The words were very low, and they came from her 
quivering with intense pain. He released her fingers. She 
leaned upon a huge boulder near and, resting her face upon 
her hand, gazed dreamily out to sea. 

“ I am very sorry,” she said. “ My uncle was right 
after all. It was not wise for us to meet. I ought to 


WOLFENDEN'S LOVE-MAKING 


151 

have no friends. It was not wise — it was very, very 
foolish.” 

Being a man, his first thoughts had been for himself. 
But at her words he forgot everything except that she too 
was unhappy. 

“Do you mean,” he said slowly, “ that you cannot care 
for me, or that there are difficulties which seem to you to 
make it impossible ? ” 

She looked up at him, and he scarcely knew her trans- 
figured face, with the tears glistening upon her eyelashes. 

“ Do not tempt me to say what might make both of us 
more unhappy,” she begged. “ Be content to know that I 
cannot marry you.” 

“ You have promised somebody else?” 

“ I shall probably marry,” she said deliberately, “ some- 
body else.” 

He ground his heel into the soft sands, and his eyes 
flashed. 

“You are being coerced ! ” he cried. 

She lifted her head proudly. 

“There is no person breathing,” she said quietly, “who 
would dare to attempt such a thing ! ” 

Then he looked out with her towards the sea, and they 
watched the long, rippling waves break upon the brown 
sands, the faint and unexpected gleam of wintry sunshine 
lying upon the bosom of the sea, and the screaming sea- 
gulls, whose white wings shone like alabaster against the 
darker clouds. For him these things were no longer 
beautiful, nor did he see the sunlight, which with a sudden 
fitfulness had warmed the air. It was all very cold and 
grey. It was not possible for him to read the riddle yet — 
she had not said that she could not care for him. There 
was that hope ! 

“ There is no one,” he said slowly, “ who could coerce 
you ? You will not marry me, but you will probably marry 


152 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


somebody else. Is it, then, that you care for this other 
man, and not for me ? ” 

She shook her head. 

“ Of the two,” she said, with a faint attempt at her old 
manner, “ I prefer you. Yet I shall marry him.” 

Wolfenden became aware of an unexpected sensation. 
He was getting angry. 

“I have a right,” he said, resting his hand upon her 
, shoulder, and gaining courage from her evident weakness, 
“ to know more. I have given you my love. At least 
you owe me in return your confidence. Let me have it. 
You shall see that even if I may not be your lover, I can 
at least be your faithful friend.” 

She touched his hand tenderly. It was scarcely kind of 
her — certainly not wise. She had taken off her glove, and 
the touch of her soft, delicate fingers thrilled him. The 
blood rushed through his veins like mad music. The long- 
ing to take her into his arms was almost uncontrollable. 
Her dark eyes looked upon him very kindly. 

“ My friend,” she said, “ I know that you would be 
faithful. You must not be angry with me. Nay, it is 
your pity I want. Some day you will know all. Then you 
will understand. Perhaps even you will be sorry for me, if 
I am not forgotten. I only wish that I could tell you 
more; only I may not. It makes me sad to deny you, 
but I must.” 

“ I mean to know,” he said doggedly — “ I mean to know 
everything. You are sacrificing yourself. To talk of 
marrying a man whom you do not love is absurd. Who 
are you ? If you do not tell me, I shall go to your 
guardian. I shall go to Mr. Sabin.” 

“Mr. Sabin is always at your service,” said a suave 
voice almost at his elbow. “Never more so than at the 
present.” 

Wolfenden turned round with a start. It was indeed 


WOLFENDEN'S LOVE-MAKING 


153 


Mr. Sabin who stood there — Mr. Sabin, in unaccustomed 
guise, clad in a tweed suit and leaning upon an ordinary 
walking-stick. 

“Come,” he said good-humouredly, “don’t look at me 
as though I were something uncanny. If you had not 
been so very absorbed you would have heard me call to 
you from the cliffs. I wanted to save myself the climb, but 
you were deaf, both of you. Am I the first man whose 
footsteps upon the sands have fallen lightly? Now, what 
is it you want to ask me, Lord Wolfenden ? ” 

Wolfenden was in no way disturbed at the man’s coming. 
On the contrary, he was glad of it. He answered boldly 
and without hesitation. 

“ I want to marry your niec'e, Mr. Sabin,” he said. 

“Very natural indeed,” Mr. Sabin remarked easily. “If 
I were a young man of your age and evident taste I have 
not the least doubt but that I should want to marry her 
myself. I offer you my sincere sympathy. Unfortunately 
it is impossible.” 

“ I want to know,” Wolfenden said, “ why it is impos- 
sible? I want a reason of some sort.” 

“You shall have one with pleasure,” Mr. Sabin said. 
“ My niece is already betrothed.” 

“ To a man,” Wolfenden exclaimed indignantly, “ whom 
she admits that she does not care for ! ” 

“Whom she has nevertheless,” Mr. Sabin said firmly, 
and with a sudden flash of anger in his eyes, “ agreed and 
promised of her own free will to marry. Look here. Lord 
Wolfenden, I do not desire to quarrel with you. You saved 
me from a very awkward accident a few nights ago, and 
I remain your debtor. Be reasonable ! My niece has 
refused your offer. I confirm her refusal. Your proposal 
does us both much honour, but it is utterly out of the 
question. That is putting it plainly, is it not ? Now, you 
must choose for yourself — whether you will drop the subject 


154 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


and remain our valued friend, or whether you compel 
me to ask you to leave us at once, and consider us hence- 
forth as strangers.” 

The girl laid her hand upon his shoulder and looked at 
him pleadingly. ' 

“ For my sake,” she said, “ choose to remain our friend, 
and let this be forgotten.” 

“For your sake, I consent,” he said. “But I give no 
promise that I will not at some future time reopen the 
subject.” 

“ You will do so,” Mr. Sabin said, “ exactly when you 
desire to close your acquaintance with us. For the rest, 
you have chosen wisely. Now I am going to take you 
home, Helene. Afterwards, if Lord Wolfenden will give 
me a match, I shall be delighted to have a round of golf 
with him.” 

“ I shall be very pleased,” Wolfenden answered. 

“I will see you at the Pavilion in half an hour,” Mr. 
Sabin said. “In the meantime, you will please excuse us. 
I have a few words to say to my niece.” 

She held out both her hands, looking at him half kindlyj 
half wistfully. 

“ Goodbye,” she said. “ I am so sorry ! ” 

But he looked straight into her eyes, and he answered 
her bravely. He would not admit defeat. 

“ I hope that you are not,” he said. “ I shall never 
regret it.” 


CHAPTER XX 


FROM A DIM WORLD 

WoLFENDEN was in no particularly cheerful frame of mind 
when, a few moments after the half hour was up, Mr. 
Sabin appeared upon the pavilion tee, followed by a tall, 
dark young man carrying a bag of golf clubs. Mr. Sabin, 
on the other hand, tiras inclined to be sardonically cheerful. 

“ Your handicap,” he remarked, “ is two. Mine is one. 
Suppose we play level. We ought to make a good match.” 

Wolfenden looked at him in surprise. 

** Did you say one ? ” 

Mr. Sabin smiled. 

“ Yes ; they give me one at Pau and Cannes. My foot 
interferes very little with my walking upon turf. All the 
same, I expect you will find me an easy victim here. Shall 
I drive? Just here, Dumayne,” he added, pointing to 
a convenient spot upon the tee with the head of his 
driver. “Not too much sand.” 

“Where did you get your caddie?” Wolfenden asked. 
“ He is not one of ours, is he ? ” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 

“ I found him on some links in the South of France,” he 
answered. “ He is the only caddie I ever knew who could 
make a decent tee, so I take him about with me. He valets 
me as well. That will do nicely, Dumayne.” 

Mr. Sabin’s expression suddenly changed. His body, as 
though by instinct, fell into position. He scarcely altered 

155 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


156 

his stand an inch from the position he had first taken up. 
Wolfenden, who had expected a half-swing, was amazed 
at the wonderfully lithe, graceful movement with which 
he stooped down and the club flew round his shoulder. 
Clean and true the ball flew off the tee in a perfectly 
direct line — a capital drive only a little short of the two 
hundred yards. Master and servant watched it critically. 

“A fairly well hit ball, I think, Dumayne,” Mr. Sabin 
remarked. 

“ You got it quite clean away, sir,” the man answered. 
“ It hasn’t run very well though ; you will find it a little 
near the far bunker for a comfortable second.” 

“ I shall carry it all right,” Mr. Sabin said quietly. 

Wolfenden also drove a long ball, but with a little slice. 
He had to play the odd, and caught the top of the bunker. 
The hole fell to Mr. Sabin in four. 

They strolled off towards the second teeing ground. 

“ Are you staying down here for long ? ” Mr. Sabin 
asked. 

Wolfenden hesitated. 

“ I am not sure,” he said. “ I am rather oddly situated 
at home. At any rate I shall probably be here as long as 
you.” 

“ I am not sure about that,” Mr. Sabin said. “ I think 
that I am going to like these links, and if so I shall not 
hurry away. Forgive me if I am inquisitive, but your 
reference to home affairs is, I presume, in connection 
with your father’s health. I was very sorry to hear that 
he is looked upon now as a confirmed invalid.” 

Wolfenden assented gravely. He did not wish to talk 
about his father to Mr. Sabin. On the other hand, Mr. 
Sabin was politely persistent. 

“ He does not, I presume, receive visitors,” he said, as 
they left the tee after the third drive. 

“ Never,” Wolfenden answered decisively. “ He suffers 


FROM A DIM WORLD 


157 


A good deal in various ways, and apart from that he is very 
much absorbed in the collection of some statistics con- 
nected with a hobby of his. He does not see even his 
oldest friends.” 

Mr. Sabin was obviously interested. 

“ Many years ago,” he said, “ I met your father at 
Alexandria. He was then in command of the Victoria. 
He would perhaps scarcely recollect me now, but at the 
time he made me promise to visit him if ever I was in 
England. It must be — yes, it surely must be nearly fifteen 
years ago.” 

“ I am afraid,” Wolfenden remarked, watching the flight 
of his ball after a successful brassy shot, “ that he would 
have forgotten all about it by now. His memory has 
suffered a good deal.” 

Mr. Sabin addressed his own ball, and from a bad lie 
sent it flying a hundred and fifty yards with a peculiar, 
jerking shot which Wolfenden watched with envy. 

“ You must have a wonderful eye,” he remarked, “ to hit 
a ball with a full swing lying like that. Nine men out of 
ten would have taken an iron.” 

Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders. He did not wish to 
talk golf. 

“ I was about to remark,” he said, “ that your father had 
then the reputation of, and impressed me as being, the best 
informed man with regard to English naval affairs with 
whom I ever conversed.” 

“ He was considered an authority, I believe,” Wolfenden 
admitted. 

“What I particularly admired about him,” Mr. Sabin 
continued, “was the absence of that cocksureness which 
sometimes, I am afraid, almost blinds the judgment of your 
great naval officers. I have heard him even discuss the 
possibility of an invasion of England with the utmost gravity. 
He admitted that it was far from improbable.” 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


158 

“ My father’s views,” Wolfenden said, “ have always been 
pessimistic as regards the actual strength of our navy and 
coast defences. I believe he used to make himself a great 
nuisance at the Admiralty.” 

“ He has ceased now, I suppose,” Mr. Sabin remarked, 
“ to take much interest in the matter ? ” 

“ I can scarcely say that,” Wolfenden answered. “ His 
interest, however, has ceased to be official. I daresay you 
have heard that he was in command of the Channel Fleet at 
the time of the terrible disaster in the Solent. He retired 
almost immediately afterwards, and we fear that his health 
will never altogether recover from the shock.” 

There was a short intermission in the conversation. 
Wolfenden had sliced his ball badly from the sixth tee, and 
Mr. Sabin, having driven as usual with almost mathematical 
precision, their ways for a few minutes lay apart. They 
came together, however, on the putting-green, and had 
a short walk to the next tee. 

‘‘That was a very creditable half to you,” Mr. Sabin 
remarked. 

“ My approach,” Wolfenden admitted, “ was a lucky 
one.” 

“ It was a very fine shot,” Mr. Sabin insisted. “ The 
spin helped you, of course, but you were justified in allow- 
ing for that, especially as you seem to play most of your 
mashie shots with a cut. What were we talking about? 
Oh, I remember of course. It was about your father and 
the Solent catastrophe. Admiral Deringham was not con- 
cerned with the actual disaster in any way, was he ? ” 

Wolfenden shook his hand. 

“Thank God, no !” he said emphatically. “ But Admiral 
Marston was his dearest friend, and he saw him go down 
with six hundred of his men. He was so close that they 
even shouted farewells to one another.” 

“It must have been a terrible shock,’ Mr. Sabin 


PROM A DIM WORLD 


159 


admitted. “ No wonder he has suffered from it. Now 
you have spoken of it, I think I remember reading about 
his retirement. A sad thing for a man of action, as he 
always was. Does he remain in Norfolk all the year 
round ? ” 

‘*He never leaves Deringham Hall,” Wolfenden answered. 
“ He used to make short yachting cruises until last year, 
but that is all over now. It is twelve months since he 
stepped outside his own gates.” 

Mr. Sabin remained deeply interested. 

“Has he any occupation beyond this hobby of which 
you spoke ? ” he asked. “ He rides and shoots a little, 
I suppose, like the rest of your country gentlemen.” 

Then for the first time Wolfenden began to wonder dimly 
whether Mr. Sabin had some purpose of his own in so 
closely pursuing the thread of this conversation. He looked 
at him keenly. At the moment his attention seemed alto- 
gether directed to the dangerous proximity of his ball and 
a tall sand bunker. Throughout his interest had seemed to 
be fairly divided between the game and the conversation 
which he had initiated. None the less Wolfenden was 
puzzled. He could scarcely believe that Mr. Sabin had 
any real, personal interest in his father, but on the other 
hand it was not easy to understand this persistent ques- 
tioning as to his occupation and doings. The last inquiry, 
carelessly though it was asked, was a direct one. It seemed 
scarcely worth while to evade it. 

“ No ; my father has special interests,” he answered 
slowly. “ He is engaged now upon some work connected 
with his profession.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

Mr. Sabin’s exclamation suggested a curiosity which it 
was not Wolfenden’s purpose to gratify. He remained 
silent. The game proceeded without remark for a quarter 
of an hour. Wolfenden was now three down, and with all 


i6o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


the stimulus of a strong opponent he set himself to recover 
lost ground. The ninth hole he won with a fine, long putt, 
which Mr. Sabin applauded heartily. 

They drove from the next tee and walked together after 
their balls, which lay within a few yards of one another. 

“ I am very much interested,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ in 
what you have been telling me about your father. It con- 
firms rather a curious story about Lord Deringham which 
I heard in London a few weeks ago. I was told, I forget 
by whom, that your father had devoted years of his life to 
a wonderfully minute study of English coast defences and 
her naval strength. My informant went on to say that — 
forgive me, but this was said quite openly you know — that 
whilst on general matters your father’s mental health was 
scarcely all that could be desired, his work in connection 
with these two subjects was of great value. It struck me 
as being a very singular and a very interesting case.” 

Wolfenden shook his head dubiously. 

“ Your informant was misled, I am afraid,” he said. “ My 
father takes his hobby very seriously, and of course we 
humour him. But as regards the value of his work I am 
afraid it is worthless.” 

“ Have you tested it yourself?” Mr. Sabin asked. 

“ I have only seen a few pages,” Wolfenden admitted, 
“ but they were wholly unintelligible. My chief authority 
is his own secretary, who is giving up an excellent place 
simply because he is ashamed to take money for assisting 
in work which he declares to be utterly hopeless.” 

“ He is a man,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ whom you can 
trust, I suppose? His judgment is not likely to be at fault.” 

“ There is not the faintest chance of it,” Wolfenden 
declared. “ He is a very simple, good-hearted little chap 
and tremendously conscientious. What your friend told 
you, by the bye, reminds me of rather a curious thing 
which happened yesterday.” 


FROM A DIM WORLD 


i6i 

Wolfenden paused. There did not seem, however, to be 
any reason for concealment, and his companion was evi- 
dently deeply interested. 

“A man called upon us,” Wolfenden continued, “with 
a letter purporting to be from our local doctor here. He 
gave his name as Franklin Wilmot, the celebrated physician, 
you know, and explained that he was interested in a new 
method of treating mental complaints. He was very 
plausible and he explained everything unusual about his 
visit most satisfactorily. He wanted a sight of the work 
on which my father was engaged, and after talking it over 
we introduced him into the study during my father’s 
absence. From it he promised to give us a general 
opinion upon the case and its treatment. Whilst he was 
there our doctor drove up in hot haste. The letter was 
a forgery, the man an impostor.” 

Wolfenden, glancing towards Mr. Sabin as he finished 
his story, was surprised at the latter’s imperfectly concealed 
interest. His lips were indrawn, his face seemed instinct 
with a certain passionate but finely controlled emotion. 
Only the slight hiss of his breath and the gleam of his black 
eyes betrayed him. 

“ What happened ? ” he asked. “ Did you secure the 
fellow ? ” 

Wolfenden played a long shot and waited whilst he 
watched the run of his ball. Then he turned towards 
his companion and shook his head. 

“ No ! He was a great deal too clever for that. He 
sent me out to meet Whitlett, and when we got back he 
had shown us a clean pair of heels. He got away through 
the window.” 

“ Did he take away any papers with him ? ” Mr. Sabin 
asked. 

“ He may have taken a loose sheet or two,” Wolfenden 
said. “ Nothing of any consequence, I think. He had no 

11 


i 62 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


time. I don’t think that that could have been his object 
altogether, or he would scarcely have suggested my remain- 
ing with him in the study.” 

Mr. Sabin drew a quick, little breath. He played an iron 
shot, and played it very badly. 

“ It was a most extraordinary occurrence,” he remarked. 
“ What was the man like ? Did he seem like an ordinary 
thief? ” 

Wolfenden shook his head decidedly. 

“ Not in the least,” he declared. “ He was well dressed 
and his manners were excellent. He had all the appearance 
of a man of position. He completely imposed upon both 
my mother and myself.” 

“How long were you in the study before Dr. Whitlett 
arrived ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

“ Barely five minutes.” 

It was odd, but Mr. Sabin seemed positively relieved. 

“ And Mr. Blatherwick,” he asked, “ where was he all the 
time ? ” 

“ Who ? ” Wolfenden asked in surprise. 

“ Mr, Blatherwick — your father’s secretary,” Mr. Sabin 
repeated coolly ; “ I understood you to say that his name 
was Blatherwick.” 

“ I don’t remember mentioning his name at all,” 
Wolfenden said, vaguely disturbed. 

Mr. Sabin addressed his ball with care and played it 
deliberately on to the green. Then he returned to the 
subject. 

“I think that you must have done,” he said suavely, 
“or I should scarcely have known it. Was he in the 
room ? ” 

“ All the time,” Wolfenden answered. 

Mr. Sabin drew another little breath. 

“ He was there when the fellow bolted ? ” 

Wolfenden nodded. 


FROM A DIM WORLD 


163 


“ Why did he not try to stop him ? ” 

Wolfenden smiled. 

“Physically,” he remarked, “it would have been an im- 
possibility. Blatherwick is a small man and an exceedingly 
nervous one. He is an honest little fellow, but I am afraid 
he would not have shone in an encounter of that sort.” 

Mr. Sabin was on the point of asking another question, 
but Wolfenden interrupted him. He scarcely knew why, 
but he wanted to get away from the subject. He was sorry 
that he had ever broached it. 

“ Come,” he said, “ we are talking too much. Let us 
play golf. I am sure I put you off that last stroke.” 

Mr. Sabin took the hint and was silent. They were on 
the eleventh green, and bordering it on the far side was 
an open road — the sea road, which followed the coast for 
a mile or two and then turned inland to Deringham. 
Wolfenden, preparing to putt, heard wheels close at hand, 
and as the stroke was a critical one for him he stood back 
from his ball till the vehicle had passed. Glancing care- 
lessly up, he saw his own blue liveries and his mother 
leaning back in a barouche. With a word of apology to his 
opponent, he started forward to meet her. 

The coachman, who had recognised him, pulled up his 
horses in the middle of the road. Wolfenden walked swiftly 
over to the carriage side. His mother’s appearance had 
alarmed him. She was looking at him, and yet past him. 
Her cheeks were pale. Her eyes were set and distended. 
One of her hands seemed to be convulsively clutching the 
side of the carriage nearest to her. She had all the appear- 
ance of a woman who is suddenly face to face with some 
terrible vision. Wolfenden looked over his shoulder quickly. 
He could see nothing more alarming in the background than 
the figure of his opponent, who, with his back partly turned 
to them, was gazing out to sea. He stood at the edge of 
the green on slightly rising ground, and his figure was out- 


164 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


lined with almost curious distinctness against the background 
of air and sky. 

“ Has anything fresh happened, mother ? ” Wolfenden 
asked, with concern. “ I am afraid you are upset. Were 
you looking for me ? ” 

She shook her head. It struck him that she was en- 
deavouring to assume a composure which she assuredly did 
not possess. 

“ No ; there is nothing fresh. Naturally I am not well. 
I am hoping that the drive will do me good. Are you 
enjoying your golf? ” 

“Very much,” Wolfenden answered. “The course has 
really been capitally kept. We are having a close match.” 

“ Who is your opponent ? ” 

Wolfenden glanced behind him carelessly. Mr. Sabin 
had thrown several balls upon the green, and was practising 
long putts. 

“ Fellow named Sabin,” he answered. “No one you 
would be likely to be interested in. He comes down from 
London, and he plays a remarkably fine game. Rather a 
saturnine-looking personage, isn’t he ? ” 

“ He is a most unpleasant-looking man,” Lady Dering- 
ham faltered, white now to the lips. “ Where did you 
meet him ? Here or in London ? ” 

“ In London,” Wolfenden explained. “ Rather a curious 
meeting it was too. A fellow attacked him coming out of 
a restaurant one night and I interfered — ^just in time. He 
has taken a little house down here.” 

“ Is he alone ? ” Lady Deringham asked. 

“ He has a niece living with him,” Wolfenden answered. 
“ She is a very charming girl. I think that you would like 
her.” 

The last words he added with something of an effort, and 
an indifference which was palpably assumed. Lady Dering- 
ham, however, did not appear to notice them at all. 


FROM A DIM WORLD 


165 

“Have no more to do with him than you can help^ 
Wolfenden,” she said, leaning a little over to him, and 
speaking in a half- fearful whisper. “I think his face is 
awful.” 

Wolfenden laughed. 

“ I am not likely to see a great deal of him,” he declared. 
“ In fact I can’t say that he seems very cordially disposed 
towards me, considering that I saved him from rather a 
nasty accident. By the bye, he said something about 
having met the Admiral at Alexandria. You have never 
come across him, I suppose ? ” 

The sun was warm and the wind had dropped, or 
Wolfenden could almost have declared that his mother’s 
teeth were chattering. Her eyes were fixed again in a rigid 
stare which passed him by and travelled beyond. He 
looked over his shoulder. Mr. Sabin, apparently tired 
of practising, was standing directly facing them, leaning 
upon his putter. He was looking steadfastly at Lady 
Deringham, not in the least rudely, but with a faint show 
of curiosity and a smile which in no way improved his 
appearance slightly parting his lips. Meeting his gaze, 
Wolfenden looked away with an odd feeling of uneasiness. 

“ You are right,” he said. “ His face is really a hand- 
some one in a way, but he certainly is not prepossessing- 
looking ! ” 

Lady Deringham had recovered herself. She leaned 
back amongst the cushions. 

“Didn’t you ask me,” she said, “whether I had ever 
met the man? I cannot remember — certainly I was at 
Alexandria with your father, so perhaps I did. You will 
be home to dinner?” 

He nodded. 

“ Of course. How is the Admiral to-day ? ” 

“ Remarkably well. He asked for you just before I came 
out.” 


i66 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


‘‘ I shall see him at dinner,” Wolfenden said. “ Perhaps 
he will let me smoke a cigar with him afterwards.” 

He stood away from the carriage and lifted his cap with 
a smile. The coachman touched his horses and the 
barouche rolled on. Wolfenden walked slowly back to 
his companion. 

“You will excuse my leaving you,” he said. “I was 
afraid that my mother might have been looking for me.” 

“ By all means,” Mr. Sabin answered. “ I hope that you 
did not hurry on my account. I am trying,” he added, 
“ to recollect if ever I met Lady Deringham. At my time 
of life one’s reminiscences become so chaotic.” 

He looked keenly at Wolfenden, who answered him after 
a moment’s hesitation. 

“ Lady Deringham was at Alexandria with my father, so 
it is just possible,” he said. 


CHAPTER XXI 
harcutt’s inspiration 

WoLFENDEN lost his match upon the last hole ; nevertheless 
it was a finely contested game, and when Mr. Sabin pro- 
posed a round on the following day, he accepted without 
hesitation. He did not like Mr. Sabin any the better — in 
fact he was beginning to acquire a deliberate distrust of him. 
Something of that fear with which other people regarded 
him had already communicated itself to Wolfenden. With- 
out having the shadow of a definite suspicion with regard 
to the man or his character, he was inclined to resent that 
interest in the state of affairs at Deringham Hall which Mr. 
Sabin had undoubtedly manifested. At the same time he 
was Helene’s guardian, and so long as he occupied that 
position Wolfenden was not inclined to give up his 
acquaintance. 

They parted in the pavilion, Wolfenden lingering for a 
few minutes, half hoping that he might receive some sort of 
invitation to call at Mr. Sabin’s temporary abode. Perhaps, 
under the circumstances, it was scarcely possible that any 
such invitation could be given, although had it been 
Wolfenden would certainly have accepted it. For he had 
no idea of at once relinquishing all hope as regards Helene. 
He was naturally sanguine, and he was very much in love 
There was something mysterious about that other engage- 
ment of which he had been told. He had an idea that, 
but for Mr. Sabin’s unexpected appearance, Helene would 

167 


l68 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


have offered him a larger share of her confidence. He was 
content to wait for it. 

Wolfenden had ridden over from home, and left his horse 
in the hotel stables. As he passed the hall a familiar 
figure standing in the open doorway hailed him. He 
glanced quickly up, and stopped short. It was Harcutt 
who was standing there, in a Norfolk tweed suit and thick 
boots. 

“ Of all men in the world ! ” he exclaimed in blank sur- 
prise. “ What, in the name of all that’s wonderful, are you 
doing here ? ” 

Harcutt answered with a certain doggedness, almost as 
though he resented Wolfenden’s astonishment. 

“ I don’t know why you should look at me as though I 
were a ghost,” he said. “ If it comes to that, I might ask 
you the same question. What are you doing here ? ” 

“ Oh ! I’m at home,” Wolfenden answered promptly. 
“ I’m down to visit my people ; it’s only a mile or two from 
here to Deringham Hall.” 

Harcutt dropped his eyeglass and laughed shortly. 

“ You are wonderfully filial all of a sudden,” he remarked. 
“ Of course you had no other reason for coming ! ” 

“ None at all,” Wolfenden answered firmly. “ I came 
because I was sent for. It was a complete surprise to me 
to meet Mr. Sabin here — at least it would have been if I 
had not travelled down with his niece. Their coming was 
simply a stroke of luck for me.” 

Harcutt assumed a more amiable expression. 

“ I am glad to hear it,” he said. “ I thought that you 
were stealing a march on me, and there really was not any 
necessity, for our interests do not clash in the least. It 
was different between you and poor old Densham, but he’s 
given it up of his own accord and he sailed for India 
yesterday.” 

“ Poor old chap ! ” Wolfenden said softly. “ He would 


HARCUTT’S INSPIRATION 169 

not tell you, I suppose, even at the last, what it was that he 
had heard about — these people ? 

“ He would not tell me,” Harcutt answered ; “ but he sent 
a message to you. He wished me to remind you that you 
had been friends for fifteen years, and he was not likely 
to deceive you. He was leaving the country, he said, 
because he had certain and definite information concerning 
the girl, which made it absolutely hopeless for either you 
or he to think of her. His advice to you was to do the 
same.” 

“ I do not doubt Densham,” Wolfenden said slowly ; 
“but I doubt his information. It came from a woman 
who has been Densham’s friend. Then, again, what may 
seem an insurmountable obstacle to him, may not be so to 
me. Nothing vague in the shape of warnings will deter 
me.” 

“ Well,” Harcutt said, “ I have given you Densham’s 
message and my responsibility concerning it is ended. As 
you know, my own interests lie in a different direction. 
Now I want a few minutes’ conversation with you. The 
hotel rooms are a little too public. Are you in a hurry, or 
can you walk up and down the drive with me once or 
twice ? ” 

“ I can spare half an hour very well,” Wolfenden said ; 
“but I should prefer to do no more walking just yet. 
Come and sit down here — it isn’t cold.” 

They chose a seat looking over the sea. Harcutt 
glanced carefully all around. There was no possibility of 
their being overheard, nor indeed was there any one in 
sight. 

“ I am developing fresh instincts,” Harcutt said, as he 
crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. “lam here, I should 
like you to understand, purely in a professional capacity — 
and I want your help.” 

“ But my dear fellow,” Wolfenden said ; “ I don’t under* 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


170 

stand. If, when you say professionally, you mean as a 
journalist, why, what on earth in this place can there be 
worth the chronicling ? There is scarcely a single person 
known to society in the neighbourhood.” 

“ Mr. Sabin is here ! ” Harcutt remarked quietly. 

Wolfenden looked at him in surprise. 

“That might have accounted for your presence here as a 
private individual,” he said; “but professionally, how on 
earth can he interest you ? ” 

“ He interests me professionally very much indeed,” 
Harcutt answered. 

Wolfenden was getting puzzled. 

“ Mr. Sabin interests you professionally ? ” he repeated 
slowly. “ Then you have learnt something. Mr. Sabin 
has an identity other than his own.” 

“I suspect him to be,” Harcutt said slowly, “a most 
important and interesting personage. I have learnt a little 
concerning him. I am here to learn more ; I am con- 
vinced that it is worth while.” 

“ Have you learnt anything,” Wolfenden asked, “ con- 
cerning his niece ? ” 

“ Absolutely nothing,” Harcutt answered decidedly. “ I 
may as well repeat that my interest is in the man alone. I 
am not a sentimental person at all. His niece is perhaps 
the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, but 
it is with no thought of her that I have taken up this inves- 
tigation. Having assured you of that, I want to know if 
you will help me ? ” 

“You must speak a little more plainly,” Wolfenden said ; 
“ you are altogether too vague. What help do you want, 
and for what purpose ? ” 

“ Mr. Sabin,” Harcutt said ; “ is engaged in great political 
schemes. He is in constant and anxious communication 
with the ambassadors of two great Powers. He affects 
secrecy in all his movements, and the name by which he is 


HARCUTT^S INSPIRATION 


171 

known is without doubt an assumed one. This much I 
have learnt for certain. My own ideas are too vague yet 
for me to formulate. I cannot say any more, except that I 
believe him to be deep in some design which is certainly 
not for the welfare of this country. It is my assurance of 
this which justifies me in exercising a certain espionage 
upon his movements — which justifies me also, Wolfenden, 
in asking for your assistance.” 

“ My position,” Wolfenden remarked, “ becomes a little 
difficult. Whoever this man Sabin may be, nothing would 
induce me to believe ill of his niece. I could take no part 
in anything likely to do her harm. You will understand 
this better, Harcutt, when I tell you that, a few hours ago, I 
asked her to be my wife.” 

“ You asked her — what ? ” 

“ To be my wife.” 

** And she ? ” 

“ Refused me ! ” 

Harcutt looked at him for a moment in blank amaze- 
ment. 

“ Who refused you — Mr. Sabin or his niece ? ” 

« Both ! ” 

“Did she — did Mr. Sabin know your position, did he 
understand that you are the future Earl of Deringham ? ” 

“ Without a doubt,” Wolfenden answered drily ; “ in fact 
Mr. Sabin seems to be pretty well up in my genealogy. He 
had met my father once, he told me.” 

Harcutt, with the natural selfishness of a man engaged 
upon his favourite pursuit, quite forgot to sympathise with 
his friend. He thought only of the bearing of this strange 
happening upon his quest. 

“ This,” he remarked, “ disposes once and for all of the 
suggestion that these people are ordinary adventurers.” 

“ If any one,” Wolfenden said, “ was ever idiotic enough 
to entertain the possibility of such a thing. I may add that 


172 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


from the first I have had almost to thrust my acquaintance 
upon them, especially so far as Mr. Sabin is concerned. 
He has never asked me to call upon them here, or in 
London ; and this morning when he found me with his 
niece he was quietly but furiously angry.” 

“ It is never worth while,” Harcutt said, “ to reject a 
possibility until you have tested and proved it. What you 
say, however, settles this one. They are not adventurers in 
any sense of the word. Now, will you answer me a few 
questions ? It may be just as much to your advantage as 
to mine to go into this matter.” 

Wolfenden nodded. 

“ You can ask the questions, at any rate,” he said ; “ I 
will answer them if I can.” 

“The young lady — did she refuse you from personal 
reasons ? A man can always tell, you know. Hadn’t you 
the impression, from her answer, that it was more the force 
of circumstances than any objection to you which prompted 
her negative? I’ve put it bluntly, but you know what I 
mean.” 

Wolfenden did not answer for nearly a minute. He was 
gazing steadily seaward, recalling with a swift effort of his 
imagination every word which had passed between them — 
he could even hear her voice, and see her face with the 
soft, dark eyes so close to his. It was a luxury of recol- 
lection. 

“ I will admit,” he said, quietly, “ that what you suggest 
has already occurred to me. If it had not, I should be 
much more unhappy than I am at this moment. To tell 
you the honest truth I was not content with her answer, or 
rather the manner of it. I should have had some hope of 
inducing her to, at any rate, modify it, but for Mr. Sabin’s 
unexpected appearance. About him, at least, there was no 
hesitation ; he said no, and he meant it.” 

“ That is what I imagined might be the case,” Harcutt 


HARCUTTS INSPIRATION 


173 


said thoughtfully. “ I don’t want to have you think that I 
imagine any disrespect to the young lady, but don’t you see 
that either she and Mr. Sabin must stand towards one 
another in an equivocal position, or else they must be in 
altogether a different station of life to their assumed one, 
when they dismiss the subject of an alliance with you so 
peremptorily.” 

Wolfenden flushed up to the temples, and his eyes were 
lit with fire. 

“ You may dismiss all idea of the former possibility,” he 
said, with ominous quietness. “ If you wish me to discuss 
this matter with you further you will be particularly careful 
to avoid the faintest allusion to it.” 

“ I have never seriously entertained it,” Harcutt assented 
cheerfully ; “ I, too, believe in the girl. She looks at once 
too proud and too innocent for any association of such 
thoughts with her. She has the bearing and the manners 
of a queen. Granted, then, that we dismiss the first pos- 
sibility.” 

“ Absolutely and for ever,” Wolfenden said firmly. “ I 
may add that Mr. Sabin met me with a distinct reason 
for his refusal — he informed me his niece was already 
betrothed.” 

“ That may or may not be true,” Harcutt said. “ It 
does not affect the question which we are considering at 
present. We must come to the conclusion that these are 
people of considerable importance. That is what I honestly 
believe. Now what do you suppose brings Mr. Sabin to 
such an out of the way hole as this ? ” 

“The golf, very likely,” Wolfenden said. “He is a 
magnificent player.” 

Harcutt frowned. 

“If I thought so,” he said, “I should consider my 
journey here a wasted one. But I can’t. He is in the 
midst of delicate and important negotiations — I know as 


174 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


much as that. He would not come down here at such a 
time to play golf. It is an absurd idea ! ” 

“ I really don’t see how else you can explain it,” Wolf- 
enden remarked ; “ the greatest men have had their hobbies, 
you know. I need not remind you of Nero’s fiddle, or 
Drake’s bowls.” 

“ Quite unnecessary,” Harcutt declared briskly. “ Frankly, 
I don’t believe in Mr. Sabin’s golf. There is somebody or 
something down here connected with his schemes ; the golf 
is a subterfuge. He plays well because he does everything 
well.” 

“ It will tax your ingenuity,” Wolfenden said, “ to con- 
nect his visit here with anything in the shape of political 
schemes.” 

“ My ingenuity accepts the task, at any rate,” Harcutt 
said. “I am going to find out all about it, and you must 
help me. It will be for both our interests.” 

“ I am afraid,” Wolfenden answered, “ that you are on a 
wild goose chase. Still I am quite willing to help you if 
I can.” 

“ Well, to begin then,” Harcutt said ; “ you have been 
with him some time to-day. Did he ask you any questions 
about the locality ? Did he show any curiosity in any of 
the residents ? ” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ Absolutely none,” he answered. “ The only conversa- 
tion we had, in which he showed any interest at all, was 
concerning my own people. By the bye, that reminds me ! 
I told him of an incident which occurred at Deringham 
Hall last night, and he was certainly interested and curious. 
I chanced to look at him at an unexpected moment, and 
his appearance astonished me. I have never seen him look 
so keen about anything before.” 

“ Will you tell me the incident at once, please ? ” Harcutt 
begged eagerly, “ It may contain the very clue for which 


HARCUTTS INSPIRATION 


175 ^ 

I am hunting. Anything which interests Mr. Sabin interests 
me.” 

“ There is no secrecy about the matter,” Wolfenden said, 

“ I will tell you all about it. You may perhaps have heard 
that my father has been in very poor health ever since the 
great Solent disaster. It unfortunately affected his brain to 
a certain extent, and he has been the victim of delusions 
ever since. The most serious of these is, that he has been 
commissioned by the Government to prepare, upon a 
gigantic scale, a plan and description of our coast defences 
and navy. He has a secretary and typist, and works ten 
hours a day ; but from their report and my own observa- 
tions I am afraid the only result is an absolutely unintelligible 
chaos. Still, of course, we have to take him seriously, and 
be thankful that it is no worse. Now the incident which 
I told Mr. Sabin was this. Last night a man called and 
introduced himself as Dr. Wilmot, the great mind specialist. 
He represented that he had been staying in the neighbour- 
hood, and was on friendly terms with the local medico 
here. Dr. Whitlett. My father’s case had been mentioned 
between them, and he had become much interested in it. 
He had a theory of his own for the investigation of such 
cases which consisted, briefly of a careful scrutiny of any 
work done by the patient. He brought a letter from Dr. 
Whitlett and said that if we would procure him a sight of 
my father’s most recent manuscripts he would give us an 
opinion on the case. We never had the slightest suspicion 
as to the truth of his statements, and I took him with me 
to the Admiral’s study. However, while we were there, 
and he was rattling through the manuscripts, up comes Dr. 
Whitlett, the local man, in hot haste. The letter was a 
forgery, and the man an impostor. He escaped through 
the window, and got clean away. That is the story 
just as I told it to Mr. Sabin. What do you make 


176 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Harcutt stood up, and laid his hand upon the other’s 
shoulder. 

“ Well, I’ve got my clue, that’s all,” he declared ; “ the 
thing’s as plain as sunlight ! ” 

Wolfenden rose also to his feet. 

“I must be a fool,” he said, “for I certainly can’t see 
it.” 

Harcutt lowered his tone. 

“Look here, Wolfenden,” he said, “I have no doubt 
that you are right, and that your father’s work is of no 
value ; but you may be very sure of one thing — Mr. Sabin 
does not think so ! ” 

“I don’t see what Mr. Sabin has got to do with it,” 
Wolfenden said. 

Harcutt laughed. 

“Well, I will tell you one thing,” he said; "" 't is the con- 
tents of your father’s study which has brought Mr. Sabin to 
Deringham ! ” 


CHAPTER XXII 


FROM THE BEGINNING 

A WOMAN stood, in the midst of a salt wilderness, gazing 
seaward. Around her was a long stretch of wet sand and 
of seaweed-stained rocks, rising from little pools of water 
left by the tide ; and beyond, the flat, marshy country was 
broken only by that line of low cliffs, from which the little 
tufts of grass sprouted feebly. The waves which rolled 
almost to her feet were barely ripples, breaking with 
scarcely a visible effort upon the moist sand. Above, the sky 
was grey and threatening; only a few minutes before a 
cloud of white mist had drifted in from the sea and settled 
softly upon the land in the form of rain. The whole out- 
look was typical of intense desolation. The only sound 
breaking the silence, almost curiously devoid of all physical 
and animal noises, was the soft washing of the sand at her 
feet, and every now and then the jingling of silver harness, 
as the horses of her carriage, drawn up on the road above, 
tossed their heads and fidgeted. The carriage itself seemed 
grotesquely out of place. The coachman, with powdered 
hair and the dark blue Deringham livery, sat perfectly 
motionless, his head bent a little forward, and his eyes 
fixed upon his horses’ ears. The footman, by their side, 
stood with folded arms, and expression as wooden as 
though he were waiting upon a Bond Street pavement. 
Both were weary, and both would have liked to vary the 
monotony by a little conversation ; but only a few yards 

12 *77 


178 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


away the woman was standing whose curious taste had 
led her to visit such a spot. 

Her arms were hanging listlessly by her side, her whole 
expression, although her face was upturned towards the 
sky, was one of intense dejection. Something about her 
attitude bespoke a keen and intimate sympathy with the 
desolation of her surroundings. The woman was unhappy ; 
the light in her dark eyes was inimitably sad. Her cheeks 
were pale and a little wan. Yet Lady Deringham was very 
handsome — as handsome as a woman approaching middle 
age could hope to be. Her figure was still slim and 
elegant, the streaks of grey in her raven black hair were few 
and far between. She might have lived hand in hand with 
sorrow, but it had done very little to age her. Only a few 
years ago, in the crowded ball-room of a palace, a prince 
had declared her to be the handsomest woman of her age, 
and the prince had the reputation of knowing. It was easy 
to believe it. 

How long the woman might have lingered there it is 
hard to say, for evidently the spot possessed a peculiar 
fascination for her, and she had given herself up to a rare 
fit of abstraction. But some sound — was it the low wailing 
of that seagull, or the more distant cry of a hawk, motionless 
in mid-air and scarcely visible against the cloudy sky, which 
caused her to turn her head inland ? And then she saw that 
the solitude was no longer unbroken. A dark object had 
rounded the sandy little headland, and was coming steadily 
towards her. She looked at it with a momentary interest, 
her skirt raised in her hand, already a few steps back on 
her return to the waiting carriage. Was it a man ? It was 
something human, at any rate, although its progression was 
slow and ungraceful, and marked with a peculiar but 
uniform action. She stood perfectly still, a motionless 
figure against the background of wan, cloud-shadowed sea 
and gathering twilight, her eyes riveted upon this strange 


FROM THE BEGINNING 


179 


thing, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks as pale as death. 
Gradually it came nearer and nearer. Her skirt dropped 
from her nerveless fingers, her eyes, a moment before dull, 
with an infinite and pitiful emptiness, were lit now with a 
new light. She was not alone, nor was she unprotected, 
yet the woman was suffering from a spasm of terror — one 
could scarcely imagine any sight revolting enough to call 
up that expression of acute and trembling fear, which had 
suddenly transformed her appearance. It was as though 
the level sands had yielded up their dead — the shipwrecked 
mariners of generations, and they all, with white, sad faces 
and wailing voices, were closing in around her. Yet it was 
hard to account for a terror so abject. There was certainly 
nothing in the figure, now close at hand, which seemed 
capable of inspiring it. 

It was a man with a club foot — nothing more nor less. 
In fact it was Mr. Sabin ! There was nothing about his 
appearance, save that ungainly movement caused by his 
deformity, in any way singular or threatening. He came 
steadily nearer, and the woman who awaited him trembled. 
Perhaps his expression was a trifle sardonic, owing chiefly 
to the extreme pallor of his skin, and the black flannel 
clothes with invisible stripe, which he had been wearing for 
golf. Yet when he lifted his soft felt hat from his head 
and bowed with an ease and effect palpably acquired in 
other countries, his appearance was far from unpleasant. 
He stood there bare-headed in the twilight, a strangely 
winning smile upon his dark face, and his head courteously 
bent. 

“ The most delightful of unexpected meetings,” he mur- 
mured. “ I am afraid that I have come upon you like an 
apparition, dear Lady Deringham ! I must 'have startled 
you ! Yes, I can see by your face that I did ; I am so sorry. 
Doubtless you did not know until yesterday that I was in 
England.” 


i8o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Lady Deringham was slowly recovering herself. She was 
white still, even to the lips, and there was a strange, sick 
pain at her heart. Yet she answered him with something 
of her usual deliberateness, conscious perhaps that her 
servants, although their heads were studiously averted, had 
yet witnessed with surprise this unexpected meeting. 

“ You certainly startled me,” she said ; “ I had imagined 
that this was the most desolate part of all unfrequented 
spots ! It is here I come when I want to feel absolutely 
alone. I did not dream of meeting another fellow creature 
— least of all people in the world, perhaps, you ! ” 

“I,” he answered, smiling gently, “was perhaps the 
better prepared. A few minutes ago, from the cliffs yonder, 
I saw your carriage drawn up here, and I saw you alight. 
I wanted to speak with you, so I lost no time in scrambling 
down on to the sands. You have changed marvellously 
little. Lady Deringham ! ” 

“ And you,” she said, “ only in name. You are the Mr. 
Sabin with whom my son was playing golf yesterday 
morning ? ” 

“I am Mr. Sabin,” he answered. “Your son did me a 
good service a week or two back. He is a very fine young 
fellow ; I congratulate you.” 

“And your niece,” Lady Deringham asked; “who is 
she ? My son spoke to me of her last night.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled faintly. 

“ Ah ! Madame,” he said, “ there have been so many 
people lately who have been asking me that question, yet 
to you as to them I must return the same answer. She is 
my niece ! ” 

“You call her?” 

“ She shares my name at present** 

“ Is she your daughter ? ” 

He shook his head sadly. 

“ I have never been married,” he said, with an indefinable 


FROM THE BEGINNING 


i8i 

mournfulness in his flexible tones. “I have had neither 
wife, nor child, nor friend. It is well for me that I have 
not ! ” 

She looked down at his deformity, and woman-like she 
shivered. 

“ It is no better, then ? ” she murmured, with eyes turned 
seaward. 

“ It is absolutely incurable,” he declared. 

She changed the subject abruptly. 

“ The last I heard of you,” she said, “ was that you were 
in China. You were planning great things there. In ten 
years, I was told, Europe was to be at your mercy ! ” 

“ I left Pekin five years ago,” he said. “ China is a land 
of Cabals. She may yet be the greatest country in the 
world. I, for one, believe in her destiny, but it will be in the 
generations to come. I have no patience to labour for 
another to reap the harvest. Then, too, a craving for just 
one draught of civilisation brought me westward again. 
Mongolian habits are interesting but a little trying.” 

“And what,” she asked, looking at him steadily, “has 
brought you to Deringham, of all places upon this earth ? ” 

He smiled, and with his stick traced a quaint pattern in 
the sand. 

“ I have never told you anything that was not the truth,” 
he said ; “ I will not begin now. I might have told you 
that I was here by chance, for change of air, or for the golf. 
Neither of these things would have been true. I am here 
because Deringham village is only a mile or two from 
Deringham Hall.” 

She drew a little closer to him. The jingling of harness, 
as her horses tossed their heads impatiently, reminded her 
of the close proximity of the servants. 

“ What do you want of me ? ” she asked hoarsely. 

He looked at her in mild reproach, a good-humoured 
smile at the corner of his lips; yet after all was it good 


i 82 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


humour or some curious outward reflection of the working 
of his secret thoughts ? When he spoke the reproach, at 
any rate, was manifest. 

“ Want of you ! You talk as though I were a black- 
mailer, or something equally obnoxious. Is that quite fair, 
Constance ? ” 

She evaded the reproach ; perhaps she was not conscious 
of it. It was the truth she wanted. 

“You had some end in coming here,” she persisted. 
“ What is it ? I cannot conceive anything in the world you 
have to gain by coming to see me. We have left the world 
and society ; we live buried. Whatever fresh schemes you 
may be planning, there is no way in which we could help 
you. You are richer, stronger, more powerful than we. I 
can think,” she added, “ of only one thing which may have 
brought you.” 

“ And that ? ” he asked deliberately. 

She looked at him with a certain tremulous wistfulness in 
her eyes, and with softening face. 

“ It may be,” she said, “ that as you grow older you have 
grown kinder ; you may have thought of my great desire, 
and you were always generous, Victor, you may have come 
to grant it ! ” 

The slightest possible change passed over his face as Ws 
Christian name slipped from her lips. The firm lines 
about his mouth certainly relaxed, his dark eyes gleamed 
for a moment with a kindlier light. Perhaps at that 
minute for both of them came a sudden lifting of the 
curtain, a lingering backward glance into the world of 
their youth, passionate, beautiful, seductive. There were 
memories there which still seemed set to music — memories 
which pierced even the armour of his equanimity. Her 
eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. With a quick 
gesture she laid her hand upon his. 

“ Believe me, Victor,” she said, “ I have always thought 


FROM THE BEGINNING 183 

of you kindly ; you have suffered terribly for my sake, and 
your silence was magnificent. I have never forgotten it.” 

His face clouded over, her impulsive words had been 
after all ill chosen, she had touched a sore point ! There 
was something in these memories distasteful to him. They 
recalled the one time in his life when he had been worsted 
by another man. His cynicism returned. 

“ I am afraid,” he said, “ that the years, which have made 
so little change in your appearance, have made you a senti- 
mentalist. I can assure you that these old memories seldom 
trouble me.” 

Then with a lightning-like intuition, almost akin to 
inspiration, he saw that he had made a mistake. His best 
hold upon the woman had been through that mixture of 
sentiment and pity, which something in their conversation 
had reawakened in her. He was destroying it ruthlessly 
and of his own accord. What folly ! 

“ Bah ! I am lying,” he said softly ; “ why should I ? 
Between you and me, Constance, there should be nothing 
but truth. We at least should be sincere one to the other. 
You are right, I have brought you something which should 
have been yours long ago.” 

She looked at him with wondering eyes. 

“ You are going to give me the letters ? ” 

“ I am going to give them to you,” he said. “ With the 
destruction of this little packet falls away the last link which 
held us together.” 

He had taken a little bundle of letters, tied with a faded 
ribbon, from his pocket and held them out to her. Even 
in that salt-odorous air the perfume of strange scents 
seemed to creep out from those closely written sheets as 
they fluttered in the breeze. Lady Deringham clasped the 
packet with both hands, and her eyes were very bright and 
very soft. 

“It is not so, Victor,” she murmured. “There is a 


184 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


new and a stronger link between us now, the link of my 
everlasting gratitude. Ah ! you were always generous 
always quixotic ! Someday I felt sure that you would do 
this.” 

“ When I left Europe,” he said, “ you would have had 
them, but there was no trusted messenger whom I could 
spare. Yet if I had never returned they were so bestowed 
that they would have come into your hands with perfect 
safety. Even now, Constance, will you think me very 
weak when I say that I part with them with regret ? They 
have been with me through many dangers and many strange 
happenings.” 

“ You are,” she whispered, “ the old Victor again ! 
Thank God that I have had this one glimpse of you ! I 
am ashamed to think how terrified I have been.” 

She held out her hand impulsively. He took it in his 
and, with a glance at her servants, let it fall almost im- 
mediately. 

“ Constance,” he said, “ I am going away now. I have 
accomplished what I came for. But first, would you care 
to do me a small service ? It is only a trifle.” 

A thrill of the old mistrustful fear shook her heart. Half 
ashamed of herself she stifled it at once, and strove to 
answer him calmly. 

“ If there is anything within my power which I can do 
for you, Victor,” she said, “it will make me very happy. 
You would not ask me, I know, unless — unless ” 

“You need have no fear,” he interrupted calmly; “it is 
a very little thing. Do you think that Lord Deringham 
would know me again after so many years ? ” 

“ My husband ? ” 

“ Yes ! ” 

She looked at him in something like amazement. Before 
she could ask the question which was framing itself upon 
her lips, however, they were both aware of a distant sound, 


FROM THE BEGINNING 


185 

rapidly drawing nearer — the thunder of a horse’s hoofs upon 
the soft sand. Looking up they both recognised the rider 
at the same instant. 

“ It is your son,” Mr. Sabin said quickly ; ** you need not 
mind. Leave me to explain. Tell me when I can find 
you at home alone ? ” 

“I am always alone.” she answered. “But come to- 
morrow.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


MR. SABIN EXPLAINS 

Mr. Sabin and his niece had finished their dinner, and 
were lingering a little over an unusually luxurious dessert. 
Wolfenden had sent some muscatel grapes and peaches 
from the forcing houses at Deringham Hall — such peaches 
as Covent Garden could scarcely match, and certainly not 
excel. Mr. Sabin looked across at Helene as they were 
placed upon the table, with a significant smile. 

“An Englishman,” he remarked, pouring himself out a 
glass of burgundy and drawing the cigarettes towards him, 
“ never knows when he is beaten. As a national trait it is 
magnificent, in private life it is a little awkward.” 

Helene had been sitting through the meal, still and 
statuesque in her black dinner gown, a little more pale 
than usual, and very silent. At Mr. Sabin’s remark she 
looked up quickly. 

“ Are you alluding to Lord Wolfenden ? ” she asked. 

Mr. Sabin lit his cigarette, and nodded through the mist 
of blue smoke. 

“To no less a person,” he answered, with a shade of 
mockery in his tone. “I am beginning to find my 
guardianship no sinecure after all ! Do you know, it never 
occurred to me, when we concluded our little arrangement, 
that I might have to exercise my authority against so 
ardent a suitor. You would have found his lordship hard 

i86 


MR. SABIN EXPLAINS 187 

to get rid of this morning, I am afraid, but for my 
opportune arrival.” 

“ By no means,” she answered. “ Lord Wolfenden is a 
gentleman, and he was not more persistent than he had a 
right to be.” 

“ Perhaps,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ you would have been 
better pleased if I had not come ? ” 

“I am quite sure of it,” she admitted ; “ but then it is so 
like you to arrive just at a crisis ! Do you know, I can’t 
help fancying that there is something theatrical about your 
comings and goings! You appear — and one looks for a 
curtain and a tableau. Where could you have dropped 
from this morning ? ” 

“From Cromer, in a donkey-cart,” he answered 
smiling. “ I got as far as Peterborough last night, and 
came on here by the first train. There was nothing very 
melodramatic about that, surely !” 

“ It does not sound so, certainly. Your playing golf with 
Lord Wolfenden afterwards was commonplace enough I ” 

“ I found Lord Wolfenden very interesting,” Mr. Sabin 
said thoughtfully. “ He told me a good deal which was 
important for me to know. I am hoping that to-night he 
will tell me more.” 

“To-night! Is he coming here?” 

Mr. Sabin assented calmly. 

“Yes. I thought you would be surprised. But then 
you need not see him, you know. I met him riding upon 
the sands this afternoon — at rather an awkward moment, 
by the bye — and asked him to dine with us.” 

“ He refused, of course ? ” 

“ Only the dinner ; presumably he doubted our cook, for 
he asked to be allowed to come down afterwards. He will 
be here soon.” 

“ Why did you ask him ? ” 

Mr. Sabin looked keenly across the table. There 


i88 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIH 


was something in the girl’s face which he scarcely under- 
stood. 

“Well, not altogether for the sake of his company, I 
must confess,” he replied. “ He has been useful to me, 
and he is in the position to be a great deal more so.” 

The girl rose up. She came over and stood before him. 
Mr. Sabin knew at once that something unusual was going 
to happen. 

“ You want to make of him,” she said, in a low, intense 
tone, “what you make of every one — a tool ! Understand 
that I will not have it ! ” 

“ Helene ! ” 

The single word, and the glance which flashed from his 
eyes, was expressive, but the girl did not falter. 

“ Oh ! I am weary of it,” she cried, with a little 
passionate outburst. “ I am sick to death of it all ! You 
will never succeed in what you are planning. One might 
sooner expect a miracle. I shall go back to Vienna. I 
am tired of masquerading. I have had more than enough 
of it.” 

Mr. Sabin’s expression did not alter one iota ; he spoke 
as soothingly as one would speak to a child. 

“ I am afraid,” he said quietly, “ that it must be dull for 
you. Perhaps I ought to have taken you more into my 
confidence ; very well, I will do so now. Listen : you say 
that I shall never succeed. On the contrary, I am on the 
point of success ; the waiting for both of us is nearly 
over.” 

The prospect startled, but did not seem altogether to 
enrapture her. She wanted to hear more. 

“I received this dispatch from London this morning,” 
he said. “Baron Knigenstein has left for Berlin to gain 
the Emperor’s consent to an agreement which we have 
already ratified. The affair is as good as settled ; it is a 
matter now of a few days only.” 


MR. SABIN EXPLAINS 189 

** Germany ! ” she exclaimed, incredulously, “ I thought 
it was to be Russia.” 

“ So,” he answered, “ did I. I have to make a certain 
rather humiliating confession. I, who have always con- 
sidered myself keenly in touch with the times, especially 
since my interest in European matters revived, have 
remained wholly ignorant of one of the most extraordinary 
phases of modern politics. In years to come history will 
show us that it was inevitable, but I must confess that it 
has come upon me like a thunder clap. I, like all the 
world, have looked upon Germany and England as natural 
and inevitable allies. That is neither more nor less than a 
colossal blunder ! As a matter of fact, they are natural 
enemies !” 

She sank into a chair, and looked at him blankly. 

“ But it is impossible,” she cried. “There are all the ties 
of relationship, and a common stock. They are sister 
countries.” 

“ Don’t you know,” he said, “ that it is the like which 
irritates and repels the like. It is this relationship which 
has been at the root of the great jealousy, which seems to 
have spread all through Germany. I need not go into all 
the causes of it with you now ; sufficient it is to say that all 
the recent successes of England have been at Germany’s 
expense. There has been a storm brewing for long ; to- 
day, to-morrow, in a week, surely within a month, it will 
break.” 

“You may be right,” she said; “but who of all the 
Frenchwomen I know would care to reckon themselves the 
debtors of Germany ? ” 

“ You will owe Germany nothing, for she will be paid and 
overpaid for all she does. Russia has made terms with the 
Republic of France. Politically, she has nothing to gain 
by a rupture ; but with Germany it is different. She and 
France are ready at this moment to fly at one another’s 


190 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


throats. The military popularity of such a war would be 
immense. The cry to arms would ring from the 
Mediterranean to the Rhine.” 

“ Oh ! I hope that it may not be war,” she said. “ I had 
hoped always that diplomacy, backed by a waiting army, 
would be sufficient. France at heart is true, I know. But 
after all, it sounds like a fairy tale. You are a wonderful 
man, but how can you hope to move nations ? What can 
you offer Germany to exact so tremendous a price } ” 

“ I can offer,” Mr. Sabin said calmly, “ what Germany 
desires more than anything else in the world — the key to 
England. It has taken me six years to perfect my schemes. 
As you know, I was in America part of the time 1 was 
supposed to be in China. It was there, in the laboratory of 
Allison, that I commenced the work. Step by step I have 
moved on — link by link I have forged the chain. I may 
say, without falsehood or exaggeration, that my work would 
be the work of another man’s lifetime. With me it has 
been a labour of love. Your part, my dear Helene, will 
be a glorious one ; think of it, and shake off your 
depression. This hole and corner life is not for long — the 
time for which we have worked is at hand.” 

She did not look up, there was no answering fire of 
enthusiasm in her dark eyes. The colour came into her 
cheeks and faded away. Mr. Sabin was vaguely disturbed. 

“ In what way,” she said, without directly looking at him, 
“ is Lord Wolfenden likely to be useful to you ? ” 

Mr. Sabin did not reply for some time, in fact he did not 
reply at all. This new phrase in the situation was suddenly 
revealed to him. When he spoke his tone was grave 
enough — grave with an undertone of contempt. 

“ Is it possible, Helene,” he said, “ that you have allowed 
yourself to think seriously of the love-making of this young 
man ? I must confess that such a thing in connection with 
you would never have occurred to me in my wildest dreams !” 


MR, SABIK EXPLAINS 


191 


** I am the mistress of my own affections,” she said 
coldly. “ I am not pledged to you in any way. If I were 
to say that I intended to listen seriously to Lord 
Wolfenden — even if I were to say that I intended to marry 
him — well, there is no one who would dare to interfere ! 
But, on the other hand, I have refused him. That should 
be enough for you. I am not going to discuss the matter 
at all ; you would not understand it.” 

“ I must admit,” Mr. Sabin said, “ that I probably should 
not. Of love, as you young people conceive it, I know 
nothing. But of that greater affection — the passionate 
love of a man for his race and his kind and his country — 
well, that has always seemed to me a thing worth living 
and working and dying for! I had fancied, Helene, that 
some spark of that same fire had warmed your blood, or 
you would not be here to-day.” 

“ I think,” she answered more gently, “ that it has. I 
too, believe me, love my country and my people and my 
order. If I do not find these all-engrossing, you must 
remember that I am a woman, and I am young ; I do not 
pretend to be capable only of impersonal and patriotic 
love.” 

“ Ay, you are a woman, and the blood of some of your 
ancestors will make itself felt,” he added, looking at her 
thoughtfully. “ I ought to have considered the influence 
of sex and heredity. By the bye, have you heard from 
Henri lately ? ” 

She shook her head. 

“Not since he has been in France. We thought that 
whilst he was there it would be better for him not to 
write.” 

Mr. Sabin nodded. 

“ Most discreet,” he remarked satirically. “ I wonder 
what Henri would say if he knew?” 

The girl’s lip curled a little. 


192 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ If even,” she said, ** there was really something serious 
for him to know, Henri would survive it. His is not the 
temperament for sorrow. For twenty minutes he would be 
in a paroxysm. He would probably send out for poison, 
which he would be careful not to take ; and play with a 
pistol, if he were sure that it was not loaded. By dinner 
time he would be calm, the opera would soothe him still 
more, and by the time it was over he would be quite ready 
to ’take Mademoiselle Somebody out to supper. With the 
first glass of champagne his sorrow would be drowned 
for ever. If any wound remained at all, it would be the 
wound to his vanity.” 

“You have considered, then, the possibility of upsetting 
my schemes and withdrawing your part ? ” Mr. Sabin said 
quietly. “You understand that your marriage with Henri 
would be an absolute necessity — that without it all would 
be chaos?” 

“I do not say that I have considered any such 
possibility,” she answered. “If I make up my mind to 
withdraw, I shall give you notice. But I will admit that I 
like Lord Wolfenden, and I detest Henri ! Ah ! I know of 
what you would remind me ; you need not fear, I shall not 
forget ! It will not be to-day, nor to-morrow, that I shall 
decide.” 

A servant entered the room and announced Lord 
Wolfenden. Mr. Sabin looked up. 

“ Where have you shown him ? ” he asked. 

“ Into the library, sir,” the girl answered. 

Mr. Sabin swore softly between his teeth, and sprang to 
his feet. 

“ Excuse me, Helene,” he exclaimed, “ I will bring Lord 
Wolfenden into the drawing-room. That girl is an idiot; 
she has shown him into the one room in the house which I 
would not have had him enter for anything in the world ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE WAY OF THE WOMAN 

WoLFENDEN had been shown, as he supposed, into an 
empty room by the servant of whom he had inquired for 
Mr. Sabin. But the door was scarcely closed before a 
familar sound from a distant corner warned him that he 
was not alone. He stopped short and looked fixedly at 
the slight, feminine figure whose white fingers were flashing 
over the keyboard of a typewriter. There was something 
very familiar about the curve of her neck and the waving of 
her brown hair ; her back was to him, and she did not turn 
round. 

“ Do leave me some cigarettes,” she said, without lifting 
her head. “ This is frightfully monotonous work. How 
much more of it is there for me to do ? ” 

“I really don’t know,” Wolfenden answered hesitatingly, 
“ Why, Blanche ! ” 

She swung round in her chair and gazed at him in blank 
amazement ; she was, at least, as much surprised as he 
was. 

“ Lord Wolfenden ! ” she exclaimed ; “ why, what are you 
doing here ? ” 

“ I might ask you,” he said gravely, “ the same ques- 
tion.” 

She stood up. 

“ You have not come to see me ? ” 

He shook his head. 


13 


193 


m 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


** I had not the least idea that you were here,” he assured 
her. 

Her face hardened. 

“ Of course not. I was an idiot to imagine that you 
would care enough to come, even if you had known.” 

“ I do not know,” he remarked, “ why you should say 
that. On the contrary ” 

She interrupted him. 

“ Oh ! I know what you are going to say. I ran away 
from Mrs. Selby’s nice rooms, and never thanked you for 
your kindness. I didn’t even leave a message for you, did 
I ? Well, never mind ; you know why, I daresay.” 

Wolfenden thought that he did, but he evaded a direct 
answer. 

“ What I cannot understand,” he said, “ is why you are 
here.” 

“ It is my new situation,” she answered. “ I was bound 
to look for one, you know. There is nothing strange about 
it. I advertised for a situation, and I got this one.” 

He was silent. There were things in connection with 
this which he scarcely understood. She watched him with 
a mocking smile parting her lips. 

“It is a good deal harder to understand,” she said, 
“why you are here. This is the very last house in the 
world in which I should have thought of seeing you.” 

“ Why ? ” he asked quickly. 

She shrugged her shoulders ; her speech had been 
scarcely a discreet one. 

“I should not have imagined,” she said, “that Mr. 
Sabin would have come within the circle of your friends.” 

“ I do not know why he should not,” Wolfenden said. 
“ I consider him a very interesting man.” 

She smiled upon him. 

“ Yes, he is interesting,” she said ; “ only I should not 
have thought that your tastes were at all identical.” 


THE WAY OF THE WOMAN 


195 

“You seem to know a good deal about him,” Wolfenden 
remarked quietly. 

For a moment an odd light gleamed in her eyes ; she 
was very pale. Wolfenden moved towards her. 

“ Blanche,” he said, “ has anything gone wrong with 
you? You don’t look well.” 

She withdrew her hands from her face. 

“ There is nothing wrong with me,” she said. “ Hush ! 
he is coming.” 

She swung round in her seat, and the quick clicking of 
the instrument was resumed as her fingers flew over it. 
The door opened, and Mr. Sabin entered. He leaned on 
his stick, standing on the threshold, and glanced keenly at 
both of them. 

“ My dear Lord Wolfenden,” he said apologetically, 
“this is the worst of having country servants. Fancy 
showing you in here. Come and join us in the other 
room \ we are just going to have our coffee.” 

Wolfenden followed him with alacrity ; they crossed the 
little hall and entered the dining-room. Helene was still 
sitting there sipping her coffee in an easy chair. She wel- 
comed him with outstretched hand and a brilliantly soft 
smile. Mr. Sabin, who was watching her closely, appre- 
ciated, perhaps for the first time, her rare womanly beauty, 
apart from its distinctly patrician qualities. There was 
a change, and he was not the man to be blind to it or to 
under-rate its significance. He felt that on the eve of 
victory he had another and an unexpected battle to fight ; 
yet he held himself like a brave man and one used to 
reverses, for he showed no signs of dismay. 

“ I want you to try a glass of this claret. Lord 
Wolfenden,” he said, “before you begin your coffee. I 
know that you are a judge, and I am rather proud of it. 
You are not going away, Helene ? ” 

“ I had no idea of going,” she laughed. “ This is really 


196 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


the only habitable room in the house, and I am not going 
to let Lord Wolfenden send me to shiver in what we call 
the drawing-room.” 

“ I should be very sorry if you thought of such a thing,” 
Wolfenden answered. 

“ If you will excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Sabin said, 
“ I will unpack some cigarettes. Helene, will you see that 
Lord Wolfenden has which liqueur he prefers ? ” 

He limped away, and Helene watched him leave the 
room with some surprise. These were tactics which she 
did not understand. Was he already making up his mind 
that the game could be played without her ? She was 
puzzled — a little uneasy. 

She turned to find Wolfenden’s admiring eyes fixed 
upon her ; she looked at him with a smile, half-sad, half- 
humorous. 

“ Let me remember,” she said, “ I am to see that you 
have — what was it ? Oh ! liqueurs. We haven’t much 
choice ; you will find Kummel and Chartreuse on the side- 
board, and Benedictine, which my uncle hates, by the bye, 
at your elbow.” 

“No liqueurs, thanks,” he said. “ I wonder, did you 
expect me to-night? I don’t think that I ought to have 
come, ought I ? ” 

“ Well, you certainly show,” she answered with a smile, 
“ a remarkable disregard for all precedents and conventions. 
You ought to be already on your way to foreign parts with 
your guns and servants. It is Englishmen, is it not, who 
go always to the Rocky Mountains to shoot bears when 
their love affairs go wrong?” 

He was watching her closely, and he saw that she was 
less at her ease than she would have had him believe. He 
saw, too, or fancied that he saw, a softening in her face, 
a kindliness gleaming out of her lustrous eyes which 
suggested new things to him. 


THE WAY OF THE WOMAN 


197 


“The Rocky Mountains,” he said slowly, “mean des- 
pair. A man does not go so far whilst he has hope.” 

She did not answer him ; he gathered courage from her 
silence. 

“ Perhaps,” he said, “ I might now have been on my 
way there but for a somewhat sanguine disposition — a. very 
strong determination, and,” he added more softly, “ a very 
intense love.” 

“ It takes,” she remarked, “ a very great deal to dis- 
courage an Englishman.” 

“ Speaking for myself,” he answered, “ I defy discourage- 
ment ; I am proof against it. I love you so dearly, Helene, 
that I simply decline to give you up ; I warn you that I am 
not a lover to be shaken off.” 

His voice was very tender; his words sounded to her 
simple but strong. He was so sure of himself and his love. 
Truly, she thought, for an Englishman this was no indif- 
ferent wooer ; his confidence thrilled her ; she felt her heart 
beat quickly under its sheath of drooping black ,lace and 
roses. 

“ I am giving you,” she said quietly, “no hope. Re- 
member that; but I do not want you to go away.” 

The hope which her tongue so steadfastly refused to 
speak he gathered from her eyes, her face, from that 
indefinable softening which seems to pervade at the 
moment of yielding a woman’s very personality. He was 
wonderfully happy, although he had the wit to keep it to 
himself. 

“You need not fear,” he whispered, “I shall not go 
away.” 

Outside they heard the sound of Mr. Sabin’s stick. She 
leaned over towards him. 

“ I want you,” she said, , “ to — kiss me.” 

His heart gave a great leap, but he controlled himself. 
Intuitively he knew how much was permitted to him ; he 


198 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


seemed to have even some faint perception of the cause for 
her strange request. He bent over and took her face for 
a moment between his hands ; her lips touched his — she 
had kissed him ! 

He stood away from her, breathless with the excitement 
of the moment. The perfume of her hair, the soft touch of 
her lips, the gentle movement with which she had thrust 
him away, these things were like the drinking of strong wine 
to him. Her own cheeks were scarlet j outside the sound 
of Mr. Sabin’s stick grew more and more distinct; she 
smoothed her hair and laughed softly up at him. 

“ At least,” she murmured, “ there is that to remember 
always.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


A HANDFUL OF ASHES 

The Countess of Deringham was sitting alone in her 
smaller drawing-room, gazing steadfastly at a certain spot 
in the blazing fire before her. A little pile of grey ashes 
was all that remained of the sealed packet which she had 
placed within the bars only a few seconds ago. She 
watched it slowly grow shapeless — piece after piece went 
fluttering up the broad chimney. A gentle yet melancholy 
smile was parting her lips. A chapter of her life was float- 
ing away there with the little trembling strips lighter than 
the air, already hopelessly destroyed. Their disintegration 
brought with it a sense of freedom which she had lacked for 
many years. Yet it was only the folly of a girl, the story of 
a little foolish love-making, which those grey, ashen frag- 
ments, clinging so tenaciously to the iron bars, could have 
unfolded. Lady Deringham was not a woman who had 
ever for a single moment had cause to reproach herself with 
any reaUlack of duty to the brave young Englishman whom 
she had married so many years ago. It was of those days 
she was thinking as she sat there waiting for the caller, 
whose generosity had set her free. 

At precisely four o’clock there was the sound of wheels 
in the drive, the slow movement of feet in the hall, and a 
servant announced a visitor. 

“ Mr. Sabin.” 

I^dy Deringham smiled and greeted him graciously. 

199 


200 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Mr, Sabin leaned upon his wonderful stick for a moment, 
and then bent low over Lady Deringham’s hand. She 
pointed to an easy chair close to her own, and he sank into 
it with some appearance of weariness. He was looking a 
little old and tired, and he carried himself without any of 
his usual buoyancy. 

“ Only a few minutes ago,” she said, “ I burnt my letters. 
I was thinking of those days in Paris when the man 
announced you ! How old it makes one feel.” 

He looked at her critically. 

** I am beginning to arrive at the conclusion,” he said, 
that the poets and the novelists are wrong. It is the 
man who suffers ! Look at my grey hairs ! ” 

“ It is only the art of my maid,” she said smiling, 
“which conceals mine. Do not let us talk of the past at all; 
to thipk that we lived so long ago is positively appalling ! ” 
He shook his head gently. 

“Not so appalling,” he answered, “as the thought of 
how long we still have to live ! One regrets one’s youth as 
a matter of course, but the prospect of old age is more 
terrible still ! Lucky those men and those women who live 
and then die. It is that interregnum — the level, monoto- 
nous plain of advancing old age, when one takes the waters 
at Carlsbad and looks askance at the entrees — that is what 
one has to dread. To watch our own degeneration, the 
dropping away of our energies, the decline of our taste — 
why, the tortures of the Inquisition were trifles to it ! ” 
She shuddered a little. 

“ You paint old age in dreary colours,” she said. 

“ I paint it as it must seem to men who have kept the 
kernel of life between their teeth,” he answered carelessly. 
“To the others — well, one cares little about them. Most 
men are like cows, they are contented so long as they are 
fed. To that class I daresay old age may seem something 
of a rest. But neither you nor I are akin to them.” 


A HANDFUL OF ASHES 


201 


“You talk as you always talked,” she said. “I^Xr. Sabin 
is very like ” 

He stopped her. 

“ Mr. Sabin, if you please,” he exclaimed. “ I am 
particularly anxious to preserve my incognito just now. 
Ever since we met yesterday I have been regretting that I 
did not mention it to you — I do not wish it to be known 
that- 1 am in England.” 

“ Mr. Sabin it shall be, then,” she answered ; “ only if I 
were you I would have chosen a more musical name.” 

“ I wonder — have you by chance spoken of me to your 
son ? ” he asked. 

“ It is only by chance that I have not,” she admitted. 
“ I have scarcely seen him alone to-day, and he was out 
last evening. Do you wish to remain Mr. Sabin to him 
also ? ” 

“To him particularly,” Mr. Sabin declared; “young 
men are seldom discreet.” 

Lady Deringham smiled. 

“ Wolfenden is not a gossip,” she remarked ; “ in fact I 
believe he is generally considered too reserved.” 

“For the present, nevertheless,” he said, “let me remain 
Mr. Sabin to him also. I do not ask you this without a 
purpose.” 

Lady Deringham bowed her head. This man had a 
right to ask her more than such slight favours. 

“You are, still,” she said, “a man of mystery and incog- 
nitos. You are still, I suppose, a plotter of great schemes. 
In the old days you used to terrify me almost ; are you still 
as daring ? ” 

“ Alas ! no,” he answered. “ Time is rapidly drawing 
me towards the great borderland, and when my foot is once 
planted there I shall carry out my theories and make my 
bow to the world with the best grace a man may whose life 
has been one long chorus of disappointments. No! I 


302 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


have retired from the great stage; mine is now only a 
passive occupation. One teturns always, you know, and in 
a mild way I have returned to the literary ambitions of my 
youth. It is in connection, by the bye, with this that I 
arrive at the favour which you so kindly promised to grant 
me.” 

“ If you knew, Victor,” she said, “ how grateful I feel 
towards you, you would not hesitate to ask me anything 
within my power to grant.” 

Mr. Sabin toyed with his stick and gazed steadfastly into 
the fire. He was pensive for several minutes ; then, with 
the air of a man who suddenly detaches himself from 
a not unpleasant train of thought, he looked up with 
a smile. 

“ I am not going to tax you very severely,” he said. I 
am writing a critical paper on the armaments of the world 
for a European review. I had letters of introduction to 
Mr. C., and he gave me a great deal of valuable informa- 
tion. There were^one or two points, however, on which he 
was scarcely clear, and in the course of conversation he 
mentioned your husband’s name as being the greatest living 
authority upon those points. He offered to give me a 
letter to him, but I thought it would perhaps scarcely be 
wise. I fancied, too, you might be inclined, for reasons 
which we need not. enlarge upon, to help me.” 

For a simple request Lady Deringham’s manner of 
receiving it was certainly strange ; she was suddenly white 
almost to the lips. A look of positive fear was in her eyes. 
The frank cordiality, the absolute kindliness with which she 
had welcomed her visitor was gone. She looked at him 
with new eyes; the old mistrust was born again. Once 
more he was the man to be feared and dreaded above all 
other men; yet she would not give way altogether. He 
was watching her narrowly, and she made a brave effort 
to regain her composure, 


A HANDFUL OF ASHES 


203 


“But do you not know,” she said hesitatingly, “that my 
husband is a great invalid ? It is a very painful subject for 
all of us, but we fear that his mind is not what it used to 
be. He has never been the same man since that awful 
night in the Solent. His work is more of a hobby with 
him; it would not be at all reliable for reference.” 

“ Not all of it, certainly,” he assented. “ Mr. C. ex 
plained that to me. What I want is an opportunity to 
discriminate. Some would be very useful to me — the 
majority, of course, worse than useless. The particular 
information which I want concerns the structural defects 
in some of the new battleships. It would save an immense 
amount of time to get this succinctly.” 

She looked away from him, still agitated. 

“There are difficulties,” she murmured; “serious ones. 
My husband has an extraordinary idea as to the value of 
his own researches, and he is always haunted by a fear lest 
some one should break in and steal his papers. He would 
not suffer me to glance at them ; and the room is too 
closely guarded for me to take you there without his know- 
ledge. He is never away himself, and one of the keepers 
is stationed outside.” 

“The wit of a woman,” Mr. Sabin said softly, “is all- 
conquering.” 

“ Providing always,” Lady Deringham said, “ that the 
woman is willing. I do not understand what it all means. 
Do you know this? Perhaps you do. There have been 
efforts made by strangers to break into my husband’s room. 
Only a few days ago a stranger came here with a forged 
letter of introduction, and obtained access to the Admiral’s 
library. He did not come to steal. He came to study 
my husband’s work ; he came, in fact, for the very purpose 
which you avow. Only yesterday my son began to take 
the same interest in the same thing. The whole of this 
morning he spent with his father, under the pretence of 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


204 

helping him ; really he was studying and examining for 
himself. He has not told me what it is, but he has a 
reason for this ; he, too, has some suspicions. Now you 
come, and your mission is the same. What does it all 
mean ? I will write to Mr. C. myself ; he will come down 
and advise me.” 

“ I would not do that if I were you,” Mr. Sabin said 
quietly. “Mr. C. would not thank you to be dragged 
down here on such an idle errand.” 

“ Ay, but would it be an idle errand ? ” she said slowly. 
“ Victor, be frank with me. I should hate to refuse any- 
thing you asked me. Tell me what it means. Is my 
husband’s work of any real value, and if so to whom, and 
for what purpose ? ” 

Mr. Sabin was gently distressed. 

“ My dear Lady Deringham,” he said, “ I have told you 
the exact truth. I want to get some statistics for my 
paper. Mr. C. himself recommended me to try and get 
them from your husband ; that is absolutely all. As for 
this attempted robbery of which you were telling me, 
believe me when I assure you that I know nothing what- 
ever about it. Your son’s interest is, after all, only natural. 
The study of the papers on which your husband has been 
engaged is the only reasonable test of his sanity. Frankly, 
I cannot believe that any one in Lord Deringham’s mental 
state could produce any work likely to be of the slightest 
permanent value.” 

The Countess sighed. 

“I suppose that I must believe you, Victor,” she said; 
“ yet, notwithstanding all that you say, I do not know how 
to help you — my husband scarcely ever leaves the room. 
He works there with a revolver by his side. If he were to 
find a stranger near his work I believe that he would shoot 
him without hesitation.” 

“ At night time ” 


A HANDFUL OF ASHES 


205 


“ At night time he usually sleeps there in an anteroom, 
and outs'.de there is a man always watching.” 

Mr. Sabin looked thoughtful. 

“ It is only necessary,” he said, “ for me to be in the 
room for about ten minutes, and I do not need to carry 
anything away; my memory will serve me for all that I 
require. By some means or other I must have that ten 
minutes.” 

“You will risk your life,” Lady Deringham said, “for I 
cannot suggest any plan ; I would help you if I could, but 
I am powerless.” 

“ I must have that ten minutes,” Mr. Sabin said slowly. 

“ Must ! ” Lady Deringham raised her eyebrows. There 
was a subtle change in the tone of the man, a note of 
authority, perhaps even the shadow of a threat ; he noted 
the effect and followed it up. 

“ I mean what I say, Constance,” he declared. “I am , 
not asking you a great thing ; you have your full share of 
woman’s wit, and you can arrange this if you like.” 

“ But, Victor, be reasonable,” she protested ; “ suggest a 
way yourself if you think it so easy. I tell you that he 
never leaves the room ! ” 

“ He must be made to leave it.” 

“ By force ? ” 

“ If necessary,” Mr. Sabin answered coolly. 

Lady Deringham raised her hand to her forehead and 
sat thinking. The man’s growing earnestness bewildered 
her. What was to be done — what could she say ? After 
all he was not changed ; the old fear of him was creeping 
through her veins, yet she made her effort. 

“You want those papers for something more than a 
magazine article ! ” she declared. “ There is something 
behind all this ! Victor, I cannot help you ; I am power^ 
less. I will take no part in anything which I cannot 
understand.” 


2o6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


He stood up, leaning a little upon his stick, the dull, 
green stone of which flashed brightly in the firelight. 

“ You will help me,” he said slowly. “ You will let me 
into that room at night, and you will see that your husband 
is not there, or that he does not interfere. And as to that 
magazine article, you are right ! What if it were a lie ! I 
do not fly at small game. Now do you understand ? ” 

She rose to her feet and drew herself up before him 
proudly. She towered above him, handsome, dignified, 
angry. 

“ Victor,” she said firmly, “ I refuse ; you can go away 
at once ! I will have no more to say or to do with you ! 
You have given me up my letters, it is true, yet for that you 
have no special claim upon my gratitude. A man of 
honour would have destroyed them long ago.” 

He looked up at her, and the ghost of an unholy smile 
flickered upon his lips. 

“ Did I tell you that I had given them all back to you ? ” 
he said. Ah ! that was a mistake ; all save one, I should 

have said ! One I kept, in case Well, your sex are 

proverbially ungrateful, you know. It is the one on the 
yellow paper written from Mentone! You remember it? 
I always liked it better than any of the others.” 

Her white hands flashed out in the firelight. It seemed 
almost as though she must have struck him. He had lied 
to her ! She was not really free ; he was still the master 
and she his slave ! She stood as though turned to stone. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that you will listen now to a little 
plan which has just occurred to me, will you not ? ” 

She looked away from him with a shudder. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked hoarsely. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


MR. BLATHERWICK AS ST. ANTHONY 

** I AM afraid,” Harcutt said, “ that either the letter was a 
hoax, or the writer has thought better of the matter. It is 
half an hour past the time, and poor Mr. Blatherwick is 
still alone.” 

Wolfenden glanced towards the distant table where his 
father’s secretary was already finishing his modest meal. 

“ Poor old Blatherwick ! ” he remarked ; “ I know he’s 
awfully relieved. He’s too nervous for this sort of thing ; I 
believe he would have lost his head altogether if his mys- 
terious correspondent had turned up.” 

“I suppose,” Harcutt said, “that we may take it for 
granted that he is not in the room.” 

“ Every soul here,” Wolfenden answered, “ is known to 
me either personally or by sight. The man with the dark 
moustache sitting by himself is a London solicitor who 
built himself a bungalow here four years ago, and comes 
down every other week for golf. The two men in the 
corner are land speculators from Norwich ; and their neigh- 
bour is Captain Stoneham, who rides over from the barracks 
twice a week, also for golf.” 

“ It is rather a sell for us,” Harcutt remarked. “ On the 
whole I am not sorry that I have to go back to town to- 
night. Great Scott ! what a pretty girl ! ” 

“ Lean back, you idiot ! ” Wolfenden exclaimed softly ; 
“ don’t move if you can help it ! ” 

207 


2o8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Harcutt grasped the situation and obeyed at once. The 
portion of the dining-room in which they were sitting was 
little more than a recess, divided off from the main apart- 
ment by heavy curtains and seldom used except in the 
summer when visitors were plentiful. Mr. Blatherwick’s 
table was really within a few feet of theirs, but they them- 
selves were hidden from it by a corner of the folding doors. 
They had chosen the position with care and apparently 
with success. 

The girl who had entered the room stood for a moment 
looking round as though about to select a table. Harcutt’s 
exclamation was not without justification, for she was cer- 
tainly pretty. She was neatly dressed in a grey walking 
suit, and a velvet Tam-o-shanter hat with a smart feather. 
Suddenly she saw Mr. Blatherwick and advanced towards 
him with outstretched hand and a charming smile. 

“ Why, my dear Mr. Blatherwick, what on earth are you 
doing here ? ” she exclaimed. “ Have you left Lord Dering - 
ham?” 

Mr. Blatherwick rose to his feet confused, and blushing 
to his spectacles ; he greeted the young lady, however, with 
evident pleasure. 

“ No ; that is, not yet,” he answered ; “lam leaving this 
week. I did not know — I had no idea that you were in the 
vicinity ! I am very pleased to see you.” 

She looked at the empty place at his table. 

“ I was going to have some luncheon,” she said ; “ I have 
walked so much further than I intended and I am raven- 
ously hungry. May I sit at your table ? ” 

“ With much pleasure,” Mr. Blatherwick assented. “ I 
was expecting a— a— friend, but he is evidently not coming.” 

“ I will take his place then, if I may,” she said, seating 
herself in the chair which the waiter was holding for her, 
and raising her veil. “ Will you order something for me ? 
I am too hungry to mind what it is.” 


MR. BLATHERWICK AS ST. ANTHONY 


209 


Mr. Blatherwick gave a hesitating order, and the waiter 
departed. Miss Merton drev^ off her gloves and was per- 
fectly at her ease. 

“Now do tell me about the friend whom you were going 
to meet,” she said, smiling gaily at him, “ I hope — you 
really must not tell me, Mr. Blatherwick, that it was a 
lady ! ” 

Mr. Blatherwick coloured to the roots of his hair at the 
mere suggestion, and hastened to disclaim it. 

“ My — my dear Miss Merton ! ” he exclaimed, “ I can 
assure you that it was not ! I — I should not think of such 
a thing.” 

She nodded, and began to break up her roll and eat it. 

“ I am very glad to hear it, Mr. Blatherwick,” she said ; 
“ I warn you that I was prepared to be very jealous. You 
used to tell me, you know, that I was the only girl with 
whom you cared to talk.” 

“ It is — quite true, quite true. Miss Merton,” he answered 
eagerly, dropping his voice a little and glancing uneasily 
over his shoulder. “ I — I have missed you very much 
indeed ; it has been very dull.” 

Mr. Blatherwick sighed ; he was rewarded by a very kind 
glance from- a pair of very blue eyes. He fingered the wine 
list, and began to wonder whether she would care for cham- 
pagne. 

“ Now tell me,” she said, “ all the news. How are they 
all at Deringham Hall — the dear old Admiral and the 
Countess, and that remarkably silly young man. Lord 
Wolfenden?” 

Wolfenden received a kick under the table, and Harcutt’s 
face positively beamed with delight. Mr. Blatherwick, how- 
ever, had almost forgotten their proximity. He had made 
up his mind to order champagne. 

“The Ad — Ad — Admiral is well in health, but worse 
mentally,” he answered. “I am leaving for that very 

14 


210 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


reaso*» I do not conceive that in fairness to myself I 
should continue to waste my time in work which can bring 
forth no fruit. I trust, Miss Merton, that you agree with 
me.” 

“ Perfectly,” she answered gravely. 

“The Countess,” he continued, “is well, but much 
worried. There have been strange hap — hap — happenings 
at the Hall since you left. Lord Wolfenden is there. By 
the bye, Miss Merton,” he added, dropping his voice, “ I 
do not — not — think that you used to consider Lord Wolf- 
enden so very silly when you were at Deringham.” 

“ It was very dull sometimes — when you were busy, Mr. 
Blatherwick,” she answered, beginning her lunch. “ I will 
confess to you that I did try to amuse myself a little with 
Lord Wolfenden. But he was altogether too rustic — too 
stupid ! I like a man with brains ! ” 

Harcutt produced a handkerchief and stuffed it to his 
mouth ; his face was slowly becoming purple with sup- 
pressed laughter. Mr. Blatherwick ordered the champagne. 

“ I — I was very jealous of him,” he admitted almost in a 
whisper. 

The blue eyes were raised again very eloquently to his. 

“ You had no cause,” she said gently ; “ and Mr. Blather- 
wick, haven’t you forgotten something ? ” 

Mr. Blatherwick had sipped his glass of champagne, and 
answered without a stutter. 

“ I have not,” he said, “ forgotten you ! ” 

“ You used to call me by my Christian name ! ” 

“I should be delighted to call you Miss — Blanche for 
ever,” he said boldly. “ May I ? ” 

She laughed softly. 

“ Well, I don’t quite know about that,” she said ; “ you 
may for this morning, at least. It is so pleasant to see you 
again. How is the work getting on ? ” 

He groaned. 


MR, BLATHERWICK AS ST. ANTHONY 


211 


“ Don’t ask me, please ; it is awful ! I am truly glad 
that I am leaving — for many reasons ! ” 

“ Have you finished copying those awful details of the 
defective armour plates ? ” she asked, suddenly dropping 
her voice so that it barely reached the other side of the 
table. 

“ Only last night,” he answered ; “ it was very hard work, 
and so ridiculous ! It went into the box with the rest of 
the finished work this morning.” 

“ Did the Admiral engage a new typewriter ? ” she 
inquired. 

He shook his head. 

“ No ; he says that he has nearly finished.” 

“ I am so glad,” she said. “ You have had no temptation 
to flirt then with anybody else, have you ? ” 

“To flirt — with anybody else ! Oh ! Miss — I mean 
Blanche. Do you think that I could do that?” 

His little round face shone with sincerity and the heat 
of the unaccustomed wine. His eyes were watering a little, 
and his spectacles were dull. The girl looked at him in 
amusement. 

“ I am afraid,” she said, with a sigh, “ that you used to 
flirt with me.” 

“I can assure you, B — B — Blanche,” he declared earnestly, 
“that I never said a word to you which I — I did not 
hon — hon — honestly mean. Blanche, I should like to ask 
you something.” 

“Not now,” she interrupted hastily. “Do you know, I 
fancy that we must be getting too confidential. That 
odious man with the eyeglass keeps staring at us. Tell me 
what you are going to do when you leave here. You can 
ask me — what you were going to, afterwards.” 

Mr. Blatherwick grew eloquent and Blanche was sym- 
pathetic. It was quite half an hour before they rose and 
prepared to depart. 


212 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“I know you won’t mind,” Blanche said to him con- 
fidentially, “ if I ask you to leave the hotel first ; the people 
I am with are a little particular, and it would scarcely do, 
you see, for us to go out together.” 

“ Certainly,” he replied. “ Would you 1 — like me to leave 
you here — would it be better ? ” 

“ You might walk to the door with me, please,” she said. 
“I am afraid you must be very disappointed that your 
friend did not come. Are you not ? ” 

Mr. Blatherwick’s reply was almost incoherent in its 
excess of protestation. They walked down the room 
together. Harcutt and Wolfenden look at one another. 

- “Well,” the former exclaimed, drinking up his liqueur, 
“ it is a sell ! ” 

“Yes,” Wolfenden agreed thoughtfully, with his eyes 
fixed upon the two departing figures, “ it is a sell ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


BY CHANCE OR DESIGN 

VVoLFENDEN Sent his phaeton to the station with Harcutt, 
who had been summoned back to town upon important 
business. Afterwards he slipped back to the hall to wait 
for its return, and came face to face with Mr. Blatherwick, 
who was starting homewards. 

“ I was looking for you,” Wolfenden said ; “ your luncheon 
party turned out a little differently to anything we had ex- 
pected.” 

“I am happy,” Mr. Blatherwick said, “to be able to 
believe that the letter was after all a hoax. There was no 
one in the room, as you would doubtless observe, likely to 
be in any way concerned in the matter.” 

Wolfenden knocked the ash off his ^ cigarette without 
replying. 

“ You seem,” he remarked, “ to be on fairly intimate 
terms with Miss Merton.” 

“We were fellow workers for several months,” Mr. 
Blatherwick reminded him ; “ naturally, we saw a good deal 
of one another.” 

“ She is,” Wolfenden continued, “ a very charming girl.” 

“I consider her, in every way,” Mr. Blatherwick said 
with enthusiasm, “ a most delightful young lady. I— I am 
very much attached to her.” 

Wolfenden laid his hand on the secretary’s shoulder. 

“ Blatherwick,” he said, “ you’re a good fellow, and I' like 

213 


214 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


you. Don’t be offended at what I am going to say. You 
must not trust Miss Merton ; she is not quite what she 
appears to you.” 

Mr. Blatherwick took a step backward, and flushed red 
with anger. 

I do not understand you, Lord Wolfenden,” he said. 
“ What do you know of Miss Merton ? ” 

“ Not very much,” Wolfenden said quietly ; “ quite 
enough, though, to justify me in warning you seriously 
against her. She is a very clever young person, but I am 
afraid a very unscrupulous one.” 

Mr. Blatherwick was grave, almost dignified. 

“Lord Wolfenden,” he said, “you are the son of my 
employer, but I take the liberty of telling you that you are 
a 1—1 ” 

“ Steady, Blatherwick,” Wolfenden interrupted ; “ you 
must not call me names.” 

“ You are not speaking the truth,” Mr. Blatherwick con- 
tinued, curbing himself with an effort. “ I will not listen 
to, or — or permit in my presence any aspersion against that 
young lady ! ” 

Wolfenden shook his head gently. 

“ Mr. Blatherwick,” he said, “ don’t be a fool ! You 
ought to know that I am not the sort of man to make evil 
remarks about a lady behind her back, unless I knew what 
I was talking about. I cannot at this moment prove it, but 
I am morally convinced that Miss Merton came here to-day 
at the instigation of the person who wrote to you, and that 
she only refrained from making you some offer because she 
knew quite well that we were within hearing.” 

“I will not listen to another word. Lord Wolfenden,” 
Mr. Blatherwick declared vigorously. “ If you are honest, 
you are cruelly misjudging that young lady ; if not you 
must know yourself the proper epithet to be applied 
to the person who defames an innocent girl behind her 


BY CHANCE OR DESIGN 


215 


back ! I wish you good afternoon, sir. I shall leave Der- 
ingham Hall to-morrow.” 

He strode away, and Wolfenden watched him with a 
faint, regretful smile upon his lips. Then he turned round 
suddenly ; a little trill of soft musical laughter came 
floating out from a recess in the darkest corner of the hall. 
Miss Merton was leaning back amongst the cushions of a 
lounge, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She beckoned 
Wolfenden to her. 

“ Quite melodramatic, wasn’t it ? ” she exclaimed, moving 
her skirts for him to sit by her side. “ Dear little man ! 
Do you know he wants to marry me ? ” 

“ What a clever girl you are,” Wolfenden remarked ; 
“ really you’d make an admirable wife for him.” 

She pouted a little. 

“ Thank you very much,” she said. “ I am not con- 
templating making any one an admirable wife ; matrimony 
does not attract me at all.” 

“ I don’t know what pleasure you can find in making a 
fool of a decent little chap like that,” he said ; “ it’s too bad 
of you, Blanche.” 

“ One must amuse oneself, and he is so odd and so very 
much in earnest.” 

“ Of course,” Wolfenden continued, “ I know that you 
had another object.” 

« Had I?” 

“ You came here to try and tempt the poor little fellow 
with a thousand pounds ! ” 

“I have never,” she interposed calmly, “possessed a 
thousand shillings in my life.” 

“Not on your own account, 01 course : you came on 
behalf of your employer, Mr. Sabin, or some one behind 
him ! What is this devilry, Blanche ? ” 

She looked at him out of wide-open eyes, but she made 
00 answer, 


2i6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ So far as I can see,” he remarked, “ I must confess that 
foolery seems a better term. I cannot imagine anything in 
my father’s work worth the concoction of any elaborate 
scheme to steal. But never mind that ; there is a scheme, 
and you are in it. Now I will make a proposition to you. 
It is a matter of money, I suppose; will you name your 
terms to come over to my side ? ” 

A look crept into her eyes which puzzled him. 

“ Over to your side,” she repeated thoughtfully. “ Do you 
mind telling me exactly what you mean by that ? ” 

As though by accident the delicate white hand from 
which she had just withdrawn her glove touched his, and 
remained there as though inviting his clasp. She looked 
quickly up at him and drooped her eyes. Wolfendt n took 
her hand, patted it kindly, and replaced it in her lap. 

“ Look here, Blanche,” he said, “ I won’t affect to mis- 
understand you ; but haven’t you learnt by this time that 
adventures are not in my way ? — less now than at any time 
perhaps.” 

She was watching his face and read its expression with 
lightning-like truth. 

“ Bah ! ” she said, “ there is no man who would be so 

brutal as you unless ” 

“ Unless what ?” 

“ He were in love with another girl 1 ” 

“ Perhaps I am, Blanche ! ” 

“ I know that you are.” 

He looked at her quickly. 

“ But you do not know with whom ? ” 

She had not guessed, but she knew now. 

“ I think so,” she said ; “ it is with the beautiful niece ol 
Mr. Sabin ! You have admirable taste.” 

“ Never mind about that,” he said ; “ let us come to my 
offer. I will give you a hundred a year for life, settle it 
upon you, if you will tell me everything.” 


BY CHANCE OR DESIGN 


217 


“A hundred a year,” she repeated. “Is that much 
money ? ” 

“ Well, it will cost more than two thousand pound,” he 
said ; “ still, I would like you to have it, and you shall if 
you will be quite frank with me.” 

She hesitated. 

“ I should like,” she said, “ to think it over till to-morrow 
morning ; it will be better, for supposing I decide to accept, 
I shall know a good deal more of this than I know now.” 

“Very well,” he said, “only I should strongly advise you 
to accept.” 

“ One hundred a year,” she repeated thoughtfully. 
“ Perhaps you will have changed your mind by to-morrow.” 

“ There is no fear of it,” he assured her quietly. 

“ Write it down,” she said. “ I think that I shall agree.” 

“ Don’t you trust me, Blanche ? ” 

“ It is a business transaction,” she said coolly ; “ you have 
made it one yourself.” 

He tore a sheet from his pocket-book and scribbled a 
few lines upon it. 

“ Will that do ? ” he asked her. 

She read it through and folded it carefully up. 

“It will do very nicely,” she said with a quiet smile. 
“And now I must go back as quickly as I can.” 

They walked to the hall door ; “Lord Wolfenden’s 
carriage had come back from the station and was waiting 
for him. 

“ How are you going ? ” he asked. 

She shook her head. 

“ I must hire something, I suppose,” she said. “ Wha^ 
beautiful horses ! Do you see. Hector remembers me quit^- 
well ; I used to take bread to him in the stable when I wa? 
at Deringham Hall. Good old man ! ” 

She patted the horse’s neck. Wolfenden did not like it, 
but he had no alternative. 


iiS 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Won’t you allow me to give you a lift ? ” he said, with a 
marked absence of cordiality in his tone ; “ or if you would 
prefer it, I can easily order a carriage from the hotel.” 

Oh ! I would much rather go with you, if you really 
don’t mind,” she said. “ May I really ? ” 

“ I shall be very pleased,” he answered untruthfully. “ I 
ought perhaps to tell you that the horses are very fresh and 
don’t go well together : they have a nasty habit of running 
away down hill.” 

She smiled cheerfully, and lifting her skirts placed a 
dainty little foot upon the step. 

“I detest quiet horses,” she said, “and I have been 
used to being run away with all my life. I rather like it.” 

Wolfenden resigned himself to the inevitable. He took 
the reins, and they rattled off towards Deringham. About 
half-way there, they saw a little black figure away on the 
cliff path to the right. 

“ It is Mr. Blatherwick,” Wolfenden said, pointing with 
his whip. “ Poor little chap ! I wish you’d leave him alone, 
Blanche ! ” 

“On one condition,” she said, smiling up at him, “I 
will!” 

“ It is granted already,” he declared. 

“ That you let me drive for just a mile ! ” 

He handed her the reins at once, and changed seats. 
From the moment she took them, he could see that she 
was an accomplished whip. He leaned back and lit a 
cigarette. 

“ Blatherwick’s salvation,” he remarked, “ has been easily 
purchased.” 

She smiled rather curiously, but did not reply. A hired 
carriage was coming towards them, and her eyes were fixed 
upon it. In a moment they swept past, and Wolfenden 
was conscious of a most unpleasant sensation. It was 
Helena, whose dark eyes were glancing from the girl to 


BY CHANCE OR DESIGN 


2IQ 

him in cold surprise ; and Mr. Sabin, who was lean^g back 
by her side wrapped in a huge fur coat. Blanche looked 
down at him innocently. 

“ Fancy meeting them,” she remarked, touching Hector 
with the whip. “ It does not matter, does it ? You look 
dreadfully cross ! ” 

Wolfenden muttered some indefinite reply and threw his 
cigarette savagely into the road. After all he was not so 
sure that Mr. Blatherwick’s salvation had been cheaply 
won ! 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A MIDNIGHT VISITOR 


“Wolf! Wolf!” 

Wolfenden, to whom sleep before the early morning 
hours was a thing absolutely impossible, was lounging in 
his easy chair meditating on the events of the day over a 
final cigarette. He had come to his room at midnight in 
rather a dejected frame of mind ; the day’s happenings had 
scarcely gone in his favour. Helene had looked upon him 
coldly — almost with suspicion. In the morning he would 
be able to explain everything, but in the meantime Blanche 
was upon the spot, and he had an uneasy feeling that the 
girl was his enemy. He had begun to doubt whether that 
drive, so natural a thing, as it really happened, was not 
carefully planned on her part, with a full knowledge of the 
fact that they would meet Mr. Sabin and his niece. It 
was all the more irritating because during the last few days 
he had been gradually growing into the belief that so far as 
his suit with Helene was concerned, the girl herself was not 
altogether indifferent to him. She had refused him definitely 
enough, so far as mere words went, but there were lights in 
her soft, dark eyes, and something indefinable, but apparent 
in her manner, which had forbidden him to abandon all 
hope. Yet it was hard to believe that she was in any way 
subject to the will of her guardian, Mr. Sabin. In small 
things she took no pains to study him ; she was evidently 
not in the least under his dominion. On the contrary, 

220 


A MIDNIGHT VISITOR 


221 


there was in his manner towards her a certain deference, 
as though it were she whose will was the ruling one between 
them. As a matter of fact, her appearance and whole 
bearing seemed to indicate one accustomed to command. 
Her family or connections she had never spoken of to 
him, yet he had not the slightest doubt but that she was 
of gentle birth. Even if it should turn out that this was 
not the case, Wolfenden was democratic enough to think 
that it made no difference. She was good enough to be 
his wife. Her appearance and manners were almost 
typically aristocratic — whatever there might be in her 
present surroundings or in her past which savoured of 
mystery, he would at least have staked his soul upon her 
honesty. He realised very fully, as he sat there smoking 
in the early hours of the morning, that' this was no passing 
fancy of his; she was his first love — for good or for evil 
she would be his last. Failure, he said to himself, was a 
word which he would not admit in his vocabulary. She 
was moving towards him already, some day she should be 
his ! Through the mists of blue tobacco smoke which 
hovered around him he seemed, with a very slight and 
very pleasant effort of his imagination, to see some faint 
visions of her in that more softening mood, the vaguest 
recollection of which set his heart beating fast and sent 
the blood moving through his veins to music. How 
delicately handsome she was, how exquisite the lines of her 
girlish, yet graceful and queenly figure. With her clear, 
creamy skin, soft as alabaster below the red gold of her 
hair, the somewhat haughty poise of her small, shapely 
head, she brought him vivid recollections of that old 
aristocracy of France, as one reads of them now only in 
the pages of romance or history. She had the grand air — 
even the great Queen could not have walked to the scaffold 
with a more magnificent contempt of the rabble, whose 
victim she was. Some more personal thought came to him ; 


222 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


he half closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair steeped 
in pleasant thoughts ; and then it all came to a swift, abrupt 
end, these reveries and pleasant castle-building. He was 
back in the present, suddenly recalled in a most extraordinary 
manner, to realisation of the hour and place. Surely he 
could not have been mistaken ! That was a low knocking 
at his locked door outside ; there was no doubt about 
it. There it was again ! He heard his own name, softly 
but unmistakably spoken in a trembling voice. He glanced 
at his watch, it was between two and three o’clock ; then he 
walked quickly to the door and opened it without hesitation. 
It was his father who stood there fully dressed, with pale 
face and angrily burning eyes. In his hand he carried a 
revolver. Wolfenden noticed that the fingers which clasped 
it were shaking, as though with cold. 

“ Father,” Wolfenden exclaimed, “ what on earth is the 
matter ? ” 

He dropped his voice in obedience to that sudden gesture 
for silence. The Admiral answered him in a hoarse 
whisper. 

“ A great deal is the matter 1 I am being deceived and 
betrayed in my own house ! Listen ! ” 

They stood together on the dimly lit landing; holding 
his breath and listening intently, Wolfenden was at once 
aware of faint, distant sounds. They came from the ground 
floor almost immediately below them. His father laid his 
hand heavily upon Wolfenden’s shoulder. 

“ Some one is in the library,” he said. “ I heard the 
door open distinctly. When I tried to get out I found 
that the door of my room was locked ; there is treachery 
here!” 

“ How did you get out ? ” Wolfenden asked. 

“ Through the bath-room and down the back stairs ; that 
door was locked too, but I found a key that fitted it. Come 
with me. Be careful ! Make no noise 1 ” 


A MIDNIGHT VISITOR 


223 


They were on their way downstairs now. As they turned 
the angle of the broad oak stairway, Wolfenden caught a 
glimpse of his father’s face, and shuddered ; it was very 
white, and his eyes were bloodshot and wild, his forefinger 
was already upon the trigger of his revolver. 

“ Let me have that,” Wolfenden whispered, touching it ; 
“ my hand is steadier than yours.” 

But the Admiral shook his head ; he made no answer in 
words, but the butt end of the revolver became almost 
welded into the palm of his hand. Wolfenden began to 
feel that they were on the threshold of a tragedy. They 
had reached the ground floor now ; straight in front of them 
was the library door. The sound of muffled movements 
within the room was distinctly audible. The Admiral’s 
breath came fast. 

“ Tread lightly. Wolf,” he muttered. “ Don’t let them 
hear us ! Let us catch them red-handed ! ” 

But the last dozen yards of the way was over white flags 
tesselated, and polished like marble. Wolfenden’s shoes 
creaked ; the Admiral’s tip-toe walk was no light one. 
There was a sudden cessation of all sounds ; they had been 
heard ! The Admiral, with a low cry of rage, leaped for- 
wards. Wolfenden followed close behind. 

Even as they crossed the threshold the room was plunged 
into sudden darkness ; they had but a momentary and 
partial glimpse of the interior. Wolfenden saw a dark, 
slim figure bending forward with his finger still pressed to 
the ball of the lamp. The table was strewn with papers, 
something — somebody — was fluttering behind the screen 
yonder. There was barely a second of light ; then with a 
sharp click the lamp went out, and the figure of the man 
was lost in obscurity. Almost simultaneously there came a 
flash of level fire and the loud report of the Admiral’s 
revolver. There was no groan, so Wolfenden concluded 
that the man, whoever he might be, had not been hit 


224 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


The sound of the report was followed by a few seconds’ 
breathless silence. There was no movement of any sort in 
the room ; only a faint breeze stealing in through the wide- 
open windows caused a gentle rustling of the papers with 
which the table was strewn, and the curtains swayed gently 
backwards and forwards. The Admiral, with his senses all 
on the alert, stood motionless, the revolver tense in his 
hand, his fiercely eager eyes straining to pierce the darkness. 
By his side, Wolfenden, equally agitated now, though from 
a different reason, stood holding his breath, his head thrust 
forward, his eyes striving to penetrate the veil of gloom which 
lay like a thick barrier between him and the screen. His 
fear had suddenly taken to itself a very real and terrible form. 
There had been a moment, before the extinction of the 
lamp had plunged the room into darkness, when he had 
seen, or fancied that he had seen, a woman’s skirts fluttering 
there. Up to the present his father’s attention had been 
wholly riveted upon the other end of the room ; yet he 
was filled with a nervous dread lest at any moment that 
revolver might change its direction. His ears were strained 
to the uttermost to catch the slightest sign of any move- 
ment. 

At last the silence was broken ; there was a faint move- 
ment near the window, and then again, without a second’s 
hesitation, there was that level line of fire and loud report 
from the Admiral’s revolver. There was no groan, no sign 
of any one having been hit. The Admiral began to move 
slowly in the direction of the window-; Wolfenden remained 
where he was, listening intently. He was right, there was a 
smothered movement from behind the screen. Some one 
was moving from there towards the door, some one with 
light footsteps and a trailing skirt. He drew back into the 
doorway ; he meant to let her pass whoever it might be, but 
he meant to know who it was. He could hear her hurried 
breathing ; a faint, familiar perfume, shaken out by the 


A MIDNIGHT VISITOR 


225 


movement of her skirts, puzzled him ; it’s very familiarity 
bewildered him. She knew that he was there ; she must 
know it, for she had paused. The position was terribly 
critical. A few yards away the Admiral was groping about, 
revolver in hand, mumbling to himself a string of terrible 
threats. The casting of a shadow would call forth that 
death-dealing fire. Wolfenden thrust out his hand cautiously ; 
it fell upon a woman’s arm. She did not cry out, although 
her rapid breathing sank almost to a moan. For a moment 
he was staggered — the room seemed to be going round with 
him ; he had to bite his lips to stifle the exclamation which 
very nearly escaped him. Then he stood away from the 
door with a little shudder, and guided her through it. He 
heard her footsteps die away along the corridor with a 
peculiar sense of relief. Then he thrust his hand into 
the pocket of his dinner coat and drew out a box of 
matches. 

“ I am going to strike a light,” he whispered in his father’s 
ear. 

“ Quick, then,” was the reply, “ I don’t think the fellow 
has got away yet ; he must be hiding behind some of the 
furniture.” 

There was the scratching of a match upon a silver box, a 
feeble flame gradually developing into a sure illumination. 
Wolfenden carefully lit the lamp and raised it high over his 
head. The room was empty ! There was no doubt about 
it ! They two were alone. But the window was wide open 
and a chair in front of it had been thrown over. The 
Admiral strode to the casement and called out angrily — 

“ Heggs ! are you there ? Is no one on duty ? ” 

There was no answer ; the tall sentry-box was empty. 

Wolfenden came over to his father’s side and brought the 
lamp with him, and together they leaned out. At first they 
could see nothing ; then Wolfenden threw off the shade 
from the lamp and the light fell in a broad track upon 


226 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


a dark, motionless figure stretched out upon the turf. 
Wolfenden stooped down hastily. 

“ My God ! ” he exclaimed, “ it is Heggs ! Father, won’t 
you sound the gong ? We shall have to arouse the house.” 

There was no need. Already the library was half full of 
hastily dressed servants, awakened by the sound of the 
Admiral’s revolver. Pale and terrified, but never more self- 
composed, I^dy Deringham stepped out to them in a long, 
white dressing-gown. 

“ What has happened ? ” she cried. “ Who is it, Wolfen- 
den — has your father shot any one ? ” 

But Wolfenden shook his head, as he stood for a moment 
upright, and looked into his mother’s face. 

“ There is a man hurt,” he said ; “ it is Heggs, I think, 
but he is not shot. The evil is not of our doing ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


“it was MR. SABIN” 

It was still an hour or two before dawn. No trace whatever 
of the marauders had been discovered either outside the 
house or within. With difficulty the Earl had been per- 
suaded to relinquish his smoking revolver, and had retired 
to his room. The doors had all been locked, and two 
of the most trustworthy servants left in charge of the library. 
Wolfenden had himself accompanied his father upstairs and 
after a few words with him had returned to his own apart- 
ment. With his mother he had scarcely exchanged a single 
sentence. Once their eyes had met and he had immediately 
looked away. Nevertheless he was not altogether unpre- 
pared for that gentle knocking at his door which came 
about half an hour after the house was once more 
silent. 

He rose at once from his chair — it seemed scarcely a 
night for sleep — and opened it cautiously. It was Lady 
Deringham who stood there, white and trembling. He 
held out his hand and she leaned heavily on it during her 
passage into the room. 

He wheeled his own easy chair before the fire and helped 
her into it. She seemed altogether incapable of speech. 
She was trembling violently, and her face was perfectly 


228 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


bloodless. Wolfenden dropped on his knees by her side 
and began chafing her hands. The touch of his fingers 
seemed to revive her. She was not already judged then. 
She lifted her eyes and looked at him sorrowfully. 

“ What do you think of me, Wolfenden ? ” she asked. 

“ I have not thought about it at all,” he answered. “ I 
am only wondering. You have come to explain every- 
thing ? ” 

She shuddered. Explain everything ! That was a task 
indeed. When the heart is young and life is a full and 
generous thing ; in the days of romance, when adventures 
and love-making come as a natural heritage and form part 
of the order of things, then the words which the woman had 
to say would have come lightly enough from her lips, less 
perhaps as a confession than as a half apologetic narration. 
But in the days when youth lies far behind, when its glamour 
has faded away and nothing but the bare incidents remain, 
unbeautified by the full colouring and exuberance of the 
springtime of life, the most trifling indiscretions then stand 
out like idiotic crimes. Lady Deringham had been a proud 
woman — a proud woman all her life. She had borne in 
society the reputation of an almost ultra-exclusiveness ; 
in her home life she had been something of an autocrat. 
Perhaps this was the most miserable moment of her life. 
Her son was looking at her with cold, inquiring eyes. 
She was on her defence before him. She bowed her head 
and spoke : 

“ Tell me what you thought, Wolfenden.” 

“ Forgive me,” he said, “ I could only think that there 
was robbery, and that you, for some sufficient reason, I am 
sure, were aiding. I could not think anything else, could 
I?” 

“You thought what was true, Wolfenden,” she whis- 
pered. “ I was helping another man to rob your father ! 
It was only a very trifling theft — a handful of notes from his 


« /r WAS MR. SABIN 


229 


work for a magazine article. But it was theft, and I was an 
accomplice ! ” 

There was a short silence. Her eyes, seeking steadfastly 
to read his face, could make nothing of it. 

“ I will not ask you why,” he said slowly. “ You must 
have had very good reasons. But I want to tell you one 
thing. I am beginning to have grave doubts as to whether 
my father’s state is really so bad as Dr. Whitlett thinks — 
whether, in short, his work is not after all really of some 
considerable value. There are several considerations which 
incline me to take this view.” 

The suggestion visibly disturbed Lady Deringham. She 
moved in her chair uneasily. 

“You have heard what Mr. Blatherwick says,” she ob- 
jected. “ I am sure that he is absolutely trustworthy.” 

“There is no doubt about Blatherwick’s honesty,” he 
admitted, “ but the Admiral himself says that he dare trust 
no one, and that for weeks he has given him no paper of 
importance to work upon simply for that reason. It has 
been growing upon me that we may have been mistaken all 
along, that very likely Miss Merton was paid to steal his 
work, and that it may possess for certain people, and for 
certain purposes, a real technical importance. How else 
can we account for the deliberate efforts which have been 
made to obtain possession of it?” 

“You have spent some time examining it yourself,” 
she said in a low tone ; “ what was your own opinion ? ” 

“ I found some sheets,” he answered, “ and I read them 
very carefully ; they were connected with the various land- 
ing-places upon the Suffolk coast. An immense amount of 
detail was very clearly given. The currents, bays, and 
fortifications were all set out ; even the roads and railways 
into the interior were dealt with. I compared them after- 
wards with a map of Suffolk. They: were, so far as one 
could judge, correct. Of course this was only a page or 


230 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


two at random, but I must say it made an impression upon 
me.” 

There was another silence, this time longer than before. 
Lady Deringham was thinking. Once more, then, the man 
had lied to her ! He was on some secret business of his 
own. She shuddered slightly. She had no curiosity as to 
its nature. Only she remembered what many people had 
told her, that where he went disaster followed. A piece of 
coal fell into the grate hissing from the fire. He stooped 
to pick it up, and catching a glimpse of her face became 
instantly graver. He remembered that as yet he had 
heard nothing of what she had come to tell him. Her 
presence in the library was altogether unexplained. 

“ You were very good,” she said slowly ; “ you stayed 
what might have been a tragedy. You knew that I was 
there, you helped me to escape ; yet you must have known 
that I was in league with the man who was trying to steal 
those papers.” 

“ There was no mistake, then ! You were doing that. 
You!” 

“ It is true,” she answered. “ It was I who let him in, 
who unlocked your father’s desk. I was his accomplice ! ” 

“ Who was the man ? ” 

She did not tell him at once. 

“ He was once,” she said, “ my lover ! ” 

« Before ” 

“ Before I met your father ! We were never really 
engaged. But he loved me, and I thought I cared for him. 
I wrote him letters — the foolish letters of an impulsive girl. 
These he has kept. I treated him badly, I know that 1 
But I too have suffered. It has been the desire of my life 
to have those letters. Last night he called here. Before 
my face he burnt all but one ! That he kept. The price 
of his returning it to me was my help — last night.” 

“ For what purpose ?” Wolfenden asked. “ What use did 


“/r WAS MR. SABIN 


231 


he propose to make of the Admiral’s papers if he succeeded 
in stealing them ? ” 

She shook her head mournfully. 

“ I cannot tell. He answered me at first that he simply 
needed some statistics to complete a magazine article, and 
that Mr. C. himself had sent him here. If what you tell 
me of their importance is true, I have no doubt that he 
lied.” 

“ Why could he not go to the Admiral himself? ” 

Lady Deringham’s face was as pale as death, and she 
spoke with downcast head, her eyes fixed upon her 
clenched hands. 

“ At Cairo,” she said, “ not long after my marriage, we 
all met. I was indiscreet, and your father was hot-headed 
and jealous. They quarrelled and fought, your father 
wounded him; he fired in the air. You understand now 
that he could not go direct to the Admiral.” 

“ I cannot understand,” he admitted, “ why you listened 
to his proposal.” 

“ Wolfenden, I wanted that letter,” she said, her voice 
dying away in something like a moan. “ It is not that I 
have anything more than folly to reproach myself with, but 
it was written — it was the only one — after my marriage. Just 
at first I was not very happy with your father. We had had a 
quarrel, I forget what about, and I sat down and wrote 
words which I have many a time bitterly repented ever 
having put on paper. I have never forgotten them — I 
never shall ! I have seen them often in my happiest 
moments, and they have seemed to me to be written with 
letters of fire.” 

“ You have it back now ? You have destroyed it ? ” 

She shook her head wearily. 

“No, I was to have had it when he had succeeded ; I 
had not let him in five minutes when you disturbed us.” 
“ Tell ipe the man’s name.” 


232 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“Why?” 

“ I will get you the letter.” 

“ He would not give it you. You could not make him.” 

Wolfenden’s eyes flashed with a sudden fire. 

“ You are mistaken,” he said. “ The man who holds for 
blackmail over a woman’s head, a letter written twenty 
years ago, is a scoundrel ! I will get that letter from him. 
Tell me his name ! ” 

Lady Deringham shuddered. 

“ Wolfenden, it would bring trouble ! He is dangerous. 
Don’t ask me. At least I have kept my word to him. It 
was not my fault that we were disturbed. He will not 
molest me now.” 

“ Mother, I will know his name ! ” 

“ I cannot tell it you ! ” 

“ Then I will find it out ; it will not be difficult. I will 
put the whole matter in the hands of the police. I shall 
send to Scotland Yard for a detective. There are marks 
underneath the window. I picked up a man’s glove upon 
the library floor. A clever fellow will find enough to work 
upon. I will find this blackguard for myself, and the law 
shall deal with him as he deserves.” 

“ Wolfenden, have mercy ! May 1 not know best ? 
Are my wishes, my prayers, nothing to you ? ” 

“ A great deal, mother, yet I consider myself also a judge 
as to the wisest course to pursue. The plan which I have 
suggested may clear up many things. It may bring to light 
the real object of this man. It may solve the mystery of 
that impostor, Wilmot. I am tired of all this uncertainty. 
We will have some daylight. I shall telegraph to-morrow 
morning to Scotland Yard.” 

“ Wolfenden, I beseech you ! ” 

“ So also do I beseech you, mother, to tell me that man’s 
name. Great heavens ! ” 

Wolfenden sprang suddenly from his chdr with startled 


«/r WAS MR. SABIN 


233 


face. An idea, slow of coming, but absolutely convincing 
from its first conception, had suddenly flashed home to 
him. How could he have been so blind? He stood 
looking at his mother in fixed suspense. The light of his 
knowledge was in his face, and she saw it. She had been 
dreading this all the while. 

“It was Mr. Sabin ! — the man who calls himself Sabin ! ” 

A little moan of despair crept out from her lips. She 
covered her face with her hands and sobbed. 


CHAPTER XXX 


THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 

Mr. Sabin, entering his breakfast-room as usual at ten 
o’clock on the following morning, found, besides the usual 
pile of newspapers and letters, a telegram, which had 
arrived too late for delivery on the previous evening. He 
opened it in leisurely fashion whilst he sipped his coffee. 
It was handed in at the Charing Cross Post Office, and 
was signed simply “K.”: — 

“Just returned. When can you call and conclude 
arrangements? Am anxious to see you. Read to-night’s 
paper. — K.” 


The telegram slipped from Mr. Sabin’s fingers. He tore 
open the St. James’s Gazette^ and a little exclamation 
escaped from his lips as he saw the thick black type which 
headed the principal columns : — 

“EXTRAORDINARY TELEGRAM OF THE GER. 
MAN EMPEROR TO MOENIG ! 

GERMAN SYMPATHY WITH THE REBELS! 

Warships Ordered to Delamere Bay! 

Qr^at Excitement on the Stock Exchange}” 


THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 


Mr. Sabin’s breakfast remained untasted. He read every 
word in the four columns, and then turned to the other 
newspapers. They were all ablaze with the news. Eng- 
land’s most renowned ally had turned suddenly against her. 
Without the slightest warning the fire-brand of war had 
been kindled, and waved threateningly in our very faces. 
The occasion was hopelessly insignificant. A handful of 
English adventurers, engaged in a somewhat rash but 
plucky expedition in a distant part of the world, had met 
with a sharp reverse. In itself the affair was nothing ; yet 
it bade fair to become a matter of international history. 
Ill-advised though they may have been, the Englishmen 
carried with them a charter granted by the British Govern- 
ment. There was no secret about it — the fact was perfectly 
understood in every Cabinet of Europe. Yet the German 
Emperor had himself written a telegram congratulating the 
State which had repelled the threatened attack. It was 
scarcely an invasion — it was little more than a demonstration 
on the part of an ill-treated section of the population ! 
The fact that German interests were in no way concerned — 
that any outside interference was simply a piece of gratuitous 
impertinence — only intensified the significance of the inci- 
dent. A deliberate insult had been offered to England; 
and the man who sat there with the paper clenched in his 
hand, whilst his keen eyes devoured the long columns of 
wonder and indignation, knew that his had been the hand 
which had hastened the long-pent-up storm. He drew 
a little breath when he had finished, and turned to his 
breakfast. 

“Is Miss Sabin up yet?” he asked the servant, who 
waited upon him. 

The man was not certain, but withdrew to inquire. He 
reappeared almost directly. Miss Sabin had been up for 
more than an hour. She had just returned from a walk, 
and had ordered breakfast to be served in her room. 


236 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“Tell her,” Mr. Sabin directed, “that I should be 
exceedingly obliged if she would take her coffee with me. 
I have some interesting news.” 

The man was absent for several minutes. Before he 
returned Helene came in. Mr. Sabin greeted her with 
his usual courtesy and even more than his usual cordiality. 

“You are missing the best part of the morning with 
your Continental habits,” she exclaimed brightly. “ I have 
been out on the cliffs since half-past eight. The air is 
delightful.” 

She threw off her hat, and going to the sideboard, helped 
herself to a cup of coffee. There was a becoming flush 
upon her cheeks — her hair was a little tossed by the wind. 
Mr. Sabin watched her curiously. 

“You have not, I suppose, seen a morning paper — 01 
rather last night’s paper ? ” he remarked. 

She shook her head. 

“A newspaper! You know that I never look at an 
English one,” she answered. “You wanted to see me, 
Reynolds said. Is there any news ? ” 

“There is great news,” he answered. “There is such 
news that by sunset to-day war will probably be declared 
between England and Germany ! ” 

The flush died out of her cheeks. She faced him pallid 
to the lips. 

“ It is not possible ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ So the whole world would have declared a week ago ! 
As a matter of fact it is not so sudden as we imagine ! 
The storm has been long brewing I It is we who have 
been blind. A little black spot of irritation has spread and 
deepened into a war-cloud.” 

“ This will affect us ? ” she asked. 

“For us,” he answered, “it is a triumph. It is the 
end of our schemes, the climax of our desires. When 
Knigenstein came to me I knew that he was in earnest, 


THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 237 


but I never dreamed that the torch was so nearly kindled. 
I see now why he was so eager to make terms with me.” 

“ And you,” she said, “ you have their bond ? ” 

For a moment he looked thoughtful. 

“Not yet. I have their promise — the promise of the 
Emperor himself. But as yet my share of the bargain is 
incomplete. There must be no more delay. It must be 
finished now — at once. That telegram would never have 
been sent from Berlin but for their covenant with me. It 
would have been better, perhaps, had they waited a little 
time. But one cannot tell! The opportunity was too 
good to let slip.” 

“ How long will it be,” she asked, “ before your work is 
complete ? ” 

His face clouded over. In the greater triumph he had 
almost forgotten the minor difficulties of the present. He 
was a diplomatist and a schemer of European fame. He 
had planned great things, and had accomplished them. 
Success had been on his side so long that he might almost 
have been excused for declining to reckon failure amongst 
the possibilities. The difficulty which was before him now 
was as trifling as the uprooting of a hazel switch after the 
conquest of a forest of oaks. But none the less for the 
moment he was perplexed. It was hard, in the face of 
this need for urgent haste, to decide upon the next step. 

“ My work,” he said slowly, “ must be accomplished at 
once. There is very little wanted. Yet that little, I must 
confess, troubles me.” 

“ You have not succeeded, then, in obtaining what you 
want from Lord Deringham ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Will he not help you at all ? ** 

“ Never.” 

“How, then, do you mean to get at these papers of 
his?” 


238 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ At present,” he replied, “ I scarcely know. In an hour 
or two I may be able to tell you. It is possible that it 
might take me twenty-four hours ; certainly no longer than 
that.” 

She walked to the window, and stood there with her 
hands clasped behind her back. Mr. Sabin had lit a 
cigarette and was smoking it thoughtfully. 

Presently she spoke to him. 

“You will get them,” she said; “yes, I believe that 
In the end you will succeed, as you have succeeded in 
everything.” 

There was a lack of enthusiasm in her tone. He looked 
up quietly, and flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. 

“You are right,” he said. “I shall succeed. My only 
regret is that I have made a slight miscalculation. It will 
take longer than I imagined. Knigenstein will be in a 
fever, and I am afraid that he will worry me. At the same 
time he is himself to blame. He has been needlessly 
precipitate.” 

She turned away from the window and stood before him. 
She had a look in her face which he had seen there but 
once before, and the memory of which had ever since 
troubled him. 

“I want you,” she said, “to understand this. I will 
not have any direct harm worked upon the Deringhams. 
If you can get what they have and what is necessary to us 
by craft — well, very good. If not, it must go ! I will 
not have force used. You should remember that Lord 
Wolfenden saved your life! I will have nothing to do 
with any scheme which brings harm upon them 1 ” 

He looked at her steadily. A small spot of colour was 
burning high up on his pallid cheeks. The white, slender 
fingers, toying carelessly with one of the breakfast appoint* 
ments, were shaking. He was very near being passionately 
angry. 


THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 239 


** Do you mean,” he said, speaking slowly and enunciating 
every word with careful distinctness, “ do you mean that 
you would sacrifice or even endanger the greatest cause 
which has ever been conceived in the heart of the patriot, 
to the whole skin of a household of English people ? I 
wonder whether you realise the position as it stands at this 
moment. I am bound in justice to you to believe that you 
do not. Do you realise that Germany has closed with our 
offer, and will act at our behest; that only a few trifling 
sheets of paper stand between us and the fullest, the most 
glorious success ? Is it a time, do you think, for scruples 
or for maudlin sentiment ? If I were to fail in my obliga- 
tions towards Knigenstein I should not only be dishonoured 
and disgraced, but our cause would be lost for ever. The 
work of many years would crumble into ashes. My own 
life would not be worth an hour’s purchase. Helene, you 
are mad ! You are either mad, or worse ! ” 

She faced him quite unmoved. It was more than ever 
apparent that she was not amongst those who feared him. 

“ I am perfectly sane,” she said, “ and I am very much 
in earnest. Our’s shall be a strategic victory, or we will 
not triumph at all. I believe that you are planning some 
desperate means of securing those papers. I repeat that I 
will not have it ! ” 

He looked at her with curling lips. 

“ Perhaps,” he said, “ it is I who have gone mad ! At 
least I can scarcely believe that I am not dreaming. Is it 
really you, Helene of Bourbon, the descendant of kings, a 
daughter of the rulers of France, who falters and turns pale 
at the idea of a little blood, shed for her country’s sake ? I 
am very much afraid,” he added with biting sarcasm, “that 
I have not understood you. You bear the name of a great 
queen, but you have the heart of a serving-maid! It is 
Lord Wolfenden for whom you fear ! ” 

She was not less firm, but her composure was affected. 


240 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


The rich colour streamed into her cheeks. She remained 
silent. 

“ For a betrothed young lady,” he said slowly, you will 
forgive me if I say that your anxiety is scarcely discreet. 
What you require, I suppose, is a safe conduct for your 
lover. I wonder how Henri would 

She flashed a glance and an interjection upon him which 
checked the words upon his lips. The gesture was almost 
a royal one. He was silenced. 

“ How dare you, sir ? ” she exclaimed. “ You are taking 
insufferable liberties. I do not permit you to interfere in 
my private concerns. Understand that even if your words 
were true, if I choose to have a lover it is my affair, not 
yours. As for Henri, what has he to complain of ? Read 
the papers and ask yourself that ! They chronicle his 
doings freely enough ! He is singularly discreet, is he not ? 
— singularly faithful ! ” 

She threw at him a glance of contempt and turned as 
though to leave the room. Mr. Sabin, recognising the fact 
that the situation was becoming dangerous, permitted him- 
self no longer the luxury of displaying his anger. He 
was quite himself again, calm, judicial, incisive. 

“ Don’t go away, please,” he said. “ I am sorry that you 
have read those reports — more than sorry that you should 
have attached any particular credence to them. As you 
know, the newspapers always exaggerate ; in many of the 
stories which they tell I do not believe that there is a single 
word of truth. But I will admit that Henri has not been 
altogether discreet. Yet he is young, and there are many 
excuses to be made for him. Apart from that, the whole 
question of his behaviour is beside the question. Your 
marriage with him was never intended to be one of affection. 
He is well enough in his way, but there is not the stuff 
in him to make a man worthy of your love. Your alliance 
with him is simply a necessary link in the chain of our great 
undertaking. Between you you will represent the two royal 


THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM 241 


families of France. That is what is necessary. You must 
marry him, but afterwards — well, you will be a queen ! ” 

Again he had erred. She looked at him with bent brows 
and kindling eyes. 

“Oh! you are hideously cynical! ” she exclaimed. “I 
may be ambitious, but it is for my country’s sake. If ^ 
I reign, the Court of France shall be of a new type; we 
will at least show the world that to be a Frenchwoman 
is not necessarily to abjure morals.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“ That,” he said, “ will be as you choose. You will make 
your Court what you please. Personally, I believe that you 
are right. Such sentiments as you have expressed, properly 
conveyed to them, would make yours abjectly half the 
bourgeois of France ! Be as ambitious as you please, 
but at least be sensible. Do not think any more of this 
young Englishman, not at any rate at present. Nothing but 
harm can come of it. He is not like themien of our own 
country, who know how to take a lady’s dismissal gracefully.” 

“ He is, at least, a man ! ” 

“ Helene, why should we discuss him ? He shall come to 
no harm at my hands. Be wise, and forget him. He can 
be nothing whatever to you. You know that. You are 
pledged to greater things.” 

She moved back to her place by the window. Her eyes 
were suddenly soft, her face was sorrowful. She did not 
speak, and he feared her silence more than her indignation. 
When a knock at the door came he was grateful for the 
interruption — grateful, that is, until he saw who it was upon 
the threshold. Then he started to his feet with a little 
exclamation. 

“ Lord Wolfenden ! You are an early visitor.” 

Wolfenden smiled grimly, and advanced into the room. 

“ I was anxious,” he said, “ to run no risk of finding you 
out. My mission is not altogether a pleasant one ! ” 

16 


CHAPTER XXXI 


*‘l MAKE NO promise” 

A SINGLE glance from Mr. Sabin into Wolfenden’s face was 
sufficient. Under his breath he swore a small, quiet oath. 
Wolfenden’s appearance was unlooked for, and almost fatal, 
yet that did not prevent him from greeting his visitor with 
his usual ineffusive but well bred courtesy. 

“ I am finishing a late breakfast,” he remarked. “ Can I 
offer you anything — a glass of claret or Benedictine ? ” 
Wolfenden scarcely heard him, and answered altogether 
at random. He had suddenly become aware that Helene 
was in the room ; she was coming towards him from the 
window recess, with a brilliant smile upon her lips. 

“ How very kind of you to look us up so early ! ” she 
exclaimed. 

Mr. Sabin smiled grimly as he poured himself out a 
liqueur and lit a cigarette. He was perfectly well aware 
that Wolfenden’s visit was not one of courtesy ; a single 
glance into his face had told him all that he cared to know. 
It was fortunate that Helene had been in the room. Every 
moment’s respite he gained was precious. 

“ Have you come to ask me to go for a drive in that 
wonderful vehicle?” she said lightly, pointing out of the 
window to where his dogcart was waiting. “ I should want 
a step-ladder to mount it ! ” 

Wolfenden answered her gravely. 

242 


I MAKE NO PROMISE 


I should feel very honoured at being allowed to take 
you for a drive at any time,” he said, “ only I think that I 
would rather bring a more comfortable carriage.” 

She shrugged her shoulders, and looked at him signifi- 
cantly. 

“ The one you were driving yesterday ? ” 

He bit his lip and frowned with vexation, yet on the 
whole, perhaps, he did not regret her allusion. It was 
proof that she had not taken the affair too seriously. 

“ The one I was driving yesterday would be a great deal 
more comfortable,” he said ; “ to-day I only thought of 
getting here quickly. I have a little business with Mr. 
Sabin.” 

“ Is that a hint for me to go ? ” she asked. “ You are not 
agreeable this morning ! What possible business can you 
have with my uncle which does not include me ? I am not 
inclined to go away ; I shall stay and listen.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled faintly ; the girl was showing her sense 
now at any rate. Wolfenden was obviously embarrassed. 
Helene remained blandly unconscious of anything serious. 

“ I suppose,” she said, “ that you want to talk golf again ! 
Golf! Why one hears nothing else but golf down here. 
Don’t you ever shoot or ride for a change ? ” 

Wolfenden was suddenly assailed by an horrible suspicion. 
He could scarcely believe that her unconsciousness was 
altogether natural. At the bare suspicion of her being in 
league with this man he stiffened. He answered without 
looking at her, conscious though he was that her dark eyes 
were seeking his invitingly, and that her lips were curving 
into a smile. 

“I am not thinking of playing golf to-day,” he said. 
Unfortunately I have less pleasant things to consider. If 
you could give me five minutes, Mr. Sabin,” he added, “ I 
should be very glad.” 

She rose immediately with all the appearance of being 


244 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


genuinely offended ; there was a little flush in her cheeks ^ 
and she walked straight to the door. Wolfenden held 
it open for her. 

“ I am exceedingly sorry to have been in the way for 
a moment,” she said ; “ pray proceed with your business at 
once.” 

Wolfenden did not answer her. As she passed through 
the doorway she glanced up at him ; he was not even look- 
ing at her. His eyes were fixed upon Mr. Sabin. The 
fingers which rested upon the door knob seemed twitching 
with impatience to close it. She stood quite still for a 
moment ; the colour left her cheeks, and her eyes grew soft. 
She was not angry any longer. Instinctively some idea of 
the truth flashed in upon her ; she passed out thoughtfully. 
Wolfenden closed the door and turned to Mr. Sabin. 

“You can easily imagine the nature of my business,” he 
said coldly. “ I have come to have an explanation with 
you.” 

Mr. Sabin lit a fresh cigarette and smiled on Wolfenden 
thoughtfully. 

“ Certainly,” he said ; “ an explanation ! Exactly ! ” 

“ Well,” said Wolfenden, “ suppose you commence, 
then.” 

Mr. Sabin looked puzzled. 

“ Had you not better be a little more explicit ? ” he 
suggested gently. 

“ I will be,” Wolfenden replied, “ as explicit as you 
choose. My mother has given me her whole confidence. 

I have come to ask how you dare to enter Deringham Hall 
as a common burglar attempting to commit a theft ; and to 
demand that you instantly return to me a letter, on which 
you have attempted to levy blackmail. Is that explicit 
enough ? ” 

Mr. Sabin’s face did not darken, nor did he seem in any 
way angry qv discomposed. He puffed at his cigarette for 


«/ MAKE NO PROMISE * 


245 


a moment or two, and then looked blandly across at his 
visitor. 

“You are talking rubbish,” he said in his usual calm, 
even tones, “ but you are scarcely to blame. It is alto- 
gether my own fault. It is quite true that I was in your 
house last night, but it was at your mother’s invitation, and 
I should very much have preferred coming openly at the 
usual time, to sneaking in according to her directions 
through a window. It was only a very small favour I 
asked, but Lady Deringham persuaded me that your father’s 
mental health and antipathy to strangers was such that he 
would never give me the information I desired, voluntarily, 
and it was entirely at her suggestion that I adopted the 
means I did. I am very sorry indeed that I allowed 
myself to be over persuaded and placed in an undoubtedly 
false position. Women are always nervous and imaginative, 
and I am convinced that if I had gone openly to your 
father and laid my case before him he would have helped 
me.” 

“ He would have done nothing of the sort ! ” Wolfenden 
declared. “ Nothing would induce him to show even a 
portion of his work to a stranger.” 

Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders gently, and continued 
without heeding the interruption. 

“As to my blackmailing Lady Deringham, you have 
spoken plainly to me, and you must forgive me for answer- 
ing you in the same fashion. It is a lie ! I had letters of 
hers, which I voluntarily destroyed in her presence ; they 
were only a little foolish, or I should have destroyed them 
long ago. I had the misfortune to be once a favoured 
suitor for your mother’s hand ; and I think I may venture 
to say — I am sure she will not contradict me — that I was 
hardly treated. The only letter I ever had from her likely 
to do her the least harm I destroyed fifteen years ago, 
when I first embarked upon what has been to a certain 


246 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


extent a career of adventure. I told her that it was not in 
the packet which we burnt together yesterday. If she 
understood from that that it was still in my possession, and 
that I was retaining it for any purpose whatever, she was 
grievously mistaken in my words. That is all I have to say.” 

He had said it very well indeed. Wolfenden, listening 
intently to every word, with his eyes rigidly fixed upon the 
man’s countenance, could not detect a single false note 
anywhere. He was puzzled. Perhaps his mother had been 
nervously excited, and had mistaken some sentence of his 
for a covert threat. Yet he thought of her earnestness, her 
terrible earnestness, and a sense of positive bewilderment 
crept over him. 

“ We will leave my mother out of the question then,” he 
said. “We will deal with this matter between ourselves. 
I should like to know exactly what part of my father’s work 
you are so anxious to avail yourself of, and for what 
purpose ? ” 

Mr. Sabin drew a letter from his pocket, and handed it 
over to Wolfenden. It was from the office of one of the 
first European Reviews, and briefly contained a request that 
Mr. Sabin would favour them with an article on the com- 
parative naval strengths of European Powers, with particular 
reference to the armament and coast defences of Great 
Britain. Wolfenden read it carefully and passed it back. 
The letter was genuine, there was no doubt about that. 

“ It seemed to me,” Mr. Sabin continued, “ the most 
natural thing in the world to consult your father upon 
certain matters concerning which he is, or has been, a 
celebrated authority. In fact I decided to do so at the 
instigation of one of the Lords of your Admiralty, to whom 
he is personally well known. I had no idea of acting 
except in the most open manner, and I called at Deringham 
Hall yesterday afternoon, and sent in my card in a perfectly 
grthodox way, as you may have heard. Your mother took 


MAKE NO PROMISE 


247 


quite an unexpected view of the whole affair, owing partly 
to your father’s unfortunate state of health and partly to 
some extraordinary attempts which, I am given to under- 
stand, have been made to rob him of his work. She was 
very anxious to help me, but insisted that it must be 
secretly. Last night’s business was, I admit, a ghastly 
mistake — only it was not my mistake ! I yielded to Lady 
Deringham’s proposals under strong protest. As a man, 
I think I may say of some intelligence, I am ashamed of 
the whole affair ; at the same time I am guilty only of an 
indiscretion which was sanctioned and instigated by your 
mother. I really do not see how I can take any blame to 
myself in the matter.” 

“You could scarcely attribute to Lady Deringham,” 
Wolfenden remarked, “the injury to the watchman.” 

“I can take but little blame to myself,” Mr. Sabin 
answered promptly. “ The man was drunk ; he had been, 
I imagine, made drunk, and I merely pushed him out of 
the way. He fell heavily, but the fault was not mine. 
Look at my physique, and remember that I was unarmed, 
and ask yourself what mischief I could possibly have done 
to the fellow.” 

Wolfenden reflected. 

“You appear to be anxious,” he said, “to convince me 
that your desire to gain access to a portion of my father’s 
papers is a harmless one. I should like to ask you why 
you have in your employ a young lady who was dismissed 
from Deringham Hall under circumstances of strong 
suspicion ? ” 

Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. 

“ It is the first time I have heard of anything suspicious 
connected with Miss Merton,” he said. “She came into 
my service with excellent testimonials, and I engaged her 
at Willing’s bureau. The fact that she had been employed 
at Deringham Hall was merely a coincidence,” 


248 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ Was it also a coincidence,” Wolfenden continued, “ that 
in reply to a letter attempting to bribe my father’s secretary, 
Mr. Blatherwick, it was she. Miss Merton, who kept an 
appointment with him ? ” 

“ That,” Mr. Sabin answered, “ I know nothing of. If 
you wish to question Miss Merton you are quite at liberty 
to do so ; I will send for her.” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ Miss Merton was far too clever to commit herself,” he 
said ; “ she knew from the first that she was being watched, 
and behaved accordingly. If she was not there as your 
agent, her position becomes more extraordinary still.” 

“ I can assure you,” Mr. Sabin said, with an air of 
weariness, “ that I am not the man of mystery you seem 
to think me. I should never dream of employing such 
roundabout means for gaining possession of a few statistics.” 

Wolfenden was silent. His case was altogether one of 
surmises ; he could prove nothing, 

“ Perhaps,” he said, “ I have been precipitate. It would 
appear so. But if I am unduly suspicious, you have your- 
self only to blame ! You admit that your name is an 
assumed one. You refuse my suit to your niece without 
any reasonable cause. You are evidently, to be frank, a 
person of much more importance than you lay claim to be. 
Now be open with me. If there is any reason, although 
I cannot conceive an honest one, for concealing your 
identity, why, I will respect your confidence absolutely. 
You may rely upon that. Tell me who you are, and who 
your niece is, and why you are travelling about in this 
mysterious way.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled good-humouredly. 

“Well,” he said, “you must forgive me if I plead guilty 
to the false identity — and preserve it. For certain reasons 
it would not suit me to take even you into my confidence. 
Besides which, if you will forgive my saying so, there does 


*•1 MAKE NO PROMISE 


249 


not seem to be the least necessity for it. We are leaving 
here during the week, and shall in all probability go abroad 
almost at once ; so we are not likely to meet again. Let 
us part pleasantly, and abandon a somewhat profitless 
discussion.” 

For a moment Wolfenden was staggered. They were 
leaving England ! Going away ! That meant that he 
would see no more of Helene. His indignation against 
the man, kindled almost into passionate anger by his 
mother’s story, was forgotten, overshadowed by a keen thrill 
of personal disappointment. If they were really leaving 
England, he might bid farewell to any chance of winning 
hei ; and there were certain words of hers, certain gestures, 
which had combined to fan that little flame of hope, which 
nothing as yet had ever been able to extinguish. He 
looked into Mr. Sabin’s quiet face, and he was conscious 
of a sense of helplessness. The man was too strong and 
too wily for him ; it was an unequal contest. 

“We will abandon the discussion then, if you will,” 
Wolfendon said slowly. “ I will talk with Lady Deringham 
again. She is in an extremely nervous state ; it is possible 
of course that she may have misunderstood you.” 

Mr. Sabin sighed with an air of gentle relief. Ah ! if 
the men of other countries were only as easy to delude as 
these Englishmen ! What a triumphant career might yet 
be his ! 

“ I am very glad,” he said, “ that you do me the honour 
to take, what I can assure you, is the correct view of the 
situation. I hope that you will not hurry away ; may I not 
offer you a cigarette ? ” 

Wolfenden sat down for the first time. 

“Are you in earnest,” he asked, “when you speak of 
leaving England so soon ? ” 

“ Assuredly ! You will do me the justice to admit that I 
have never pretended to like your country, have I ? I hope 


250 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


to leave it for several years, if not for ever, within the course 
of a few weeks.” 

“ And your niece, Mr. Sabin ? ” 

“ She accompanies me, of course ; she likes this country 
even less than I do. Perhaps, under the circumstances, our 
departure is the best thing that could happen ; it is at any 
rate opportune.” 

“ I cannot agree with you,” Wolfenden said ; “ for me it is 
most inopportune. I need scarcely say that I have not 
abandoned my desire to make your niece my wife.” 

“ I should have thought,” Mr. Sabin said, with a fine note 
of satire in his tone, “ that you would have put far away 
from you all idea of any connection with such suspicious 
personages.” 

“ I have never had,” Wolfenden said calmly, “ any sus- 
picion at all concerning your niece.” 

“ She would be, I am sure, much flattered,” Mr. Sabin 
declared. “ At the same time I can scarcely see on what 
grounds you continue to hope for an impossibility. My 
niece’s refusal seemed to me explicit enough, especially 
when coupled with my own positive prohibition.” 

Your niece,” Wolfenden said, “ is doubtless of age. I 
should not trouble about your consent if I could gain hers, 
and I may as well tell you at once, that I by no means 
despair of doing so.” 

Mr. Sabin bit his lip, and his dark eyes flashed out with a 
sudden fire. 

“I should be glad to know, sir,” he said, “on what 
grounds you consider my voice in the affair to be in- 
effective ? ” 

“ Partly,” Wolfenden answered, “ for the reason which I 
have already given you — because your niece is of age ; and 
partly also because you persist in giving me no definite 
reason for your refusal.” 

“1 have told you distinctly,” Mr. Sabin said, “that 


«/ MAKE NO PROMISE'* 251 

my niece is betrothed and will be married within six 
months.” 

“To whom? where is he? why is he not here? Your 
niece wears no engagement ring. I will answer for it, that 
if she is as you say betrothed, it is not of her own free 
will.” 

“You talk,” Mr. Sabin said with dangerous calm, “like a 
fool. It is not customary amongst the class to which my 
niece belongs to wear always an engagement ring. As for 
her affections, she has had, I am glad to say, a sufficient self- 
control to keep them to herself. Your presumption is 
simply the result of your entire ignorance. I appeal to 
you for the last time, Lord Wolfenden, to behave like a 
man of common sense, and abandon hopes which can only 
end in disappointment.” 

“ I have no intention of doing anything of the sort,” 
Wolfenden said doggedly; “we Englishmen are a pig- 
headed race, as you were once polite enough to observe. 
Your niece is the only woman whom I have wished to 
marry, and I shall marry her, if I can.” 

“ I shall make it my especial concern,” Mr. Sabin said 
firmly, “to see that all intercourse between you ends at 
once.” 

Wolfenden rose to his feet. 

“ It is obviously useless,” he said, “ to continue this con- 
versation. I have told you my intentions. I shall pursue 
them to the best of my ability. Good morning.” 

Mr. Sabin held out his hand. 

“ I have just a word more to say to you,” he declared. 
“ It is about your father.” 

“I do not desire to discuss my father, or any other 
matter with you,” Wolfenden said quietly. “As to my 
father’s work, I am determined to solve the mystery con- 
nected with it once and for all. I have wired for Mr. 
C. to come down, and, if necessary, take possession of 


252 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


the papers. You can get what information you require 
from him yourself.” 

Mr. Sabin rose up slowly ; his long, white fingers were 
clasped around the head of that curious stick of his. There 
was a peculiar glint in his eyes, and his cheeks were pale 
with passion. 

“ I am very much obliged to you for telling me that,” he 
said ; “ it is valuable information for me. I will certainly 
apply to Mr. C.” 

He had been drawing nearer and nearer to Wolfenden. 
Suddenly he stopped, and, with a swift movement, raised 
the stick on which he had been leaning, over his head. It 
whirled round in a semi-circle. Wolfenden, fascinated by 
that line of gleaming green light, hesitated for a moment, 
then he sprang backwards, but he was too late. The head 
of the stick came down on his head, his upraised arm did 
little to break the force of the blow. He sank to the 
ground with a smothered groan. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE SECRET OF MR. SABIN’s NIECE 

At the sound of his cry, Helene, who had been crossing 
the hall, threw open the door just as Mr. Sabin’s fingers 
were upon the key. Seeing that he was powerless to keep 
from her the knowledge of what had happened, he did not 
oppose her entrance. She glided into the centre of the 
room with a stifled cry of terror. Together, she and Mr. 
Sabin bent over Wolfenden’s motionless figure. Mr. Sabin 
unfastened the waistcoat and felt his heart. She did not 
speak until he had held his hand there for several seconds, 
then she asked a question. 

“ Have you killed him ? ” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head and smiled gently. 

“Too tough a skull by far,” he said. “Can you get a 
basin and a towel without any one seeing you ? ” 

She nodded, and fetched them from her own room. The 
water was fresh and cold, and the towel was of fine linen 
daintily hemmed, and fragrant with the perfume of violets. 
Yet neither of these things, nor the soft warmth of her 
breathing upon his cheek, seemed to revive him in the 
least. He lay quite still in the same heavy stupor. Mr. 
Sabin stood upright and looked at him thoughtfully. His 
face had grown almost haggard. 

“We had better send for a doctor,” she whispered 
fiercely. “ I shall fetch one myself if you do not ! ” 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Mr. Sabin gently dissented. 

“ I know quite as much as any doctor,” he said ; “ the 
man is not dead, or dying, or likely to die. I wonder if we 
could move him on to that sofa ! ” 

Together they managed it somehow. Mr. Sabin, in the 
course of his movements to and fro about the room, was 
attracted by the sight of the dogcart still waiting outside. 
He frowned, and stood for a moment looking thoughtfully 
at it. Then he went outside. 

“ Are you waiting for Lord Wolfenden ? ” he asked the 
groom. 

The man looked up in surprise. 

“ Yes, sir. I set him down here nearly an hour ago. I 
had no orders to go home.” 

“ Lord Wolfenden has evidently forgotten all about you,” 
Mr. Sabin said. “ He left by the back way for the golf 
course, and I am going to join him there directly. He is 
not coming back here at all. You had better go home, 1 
should think.” 

The man touched his hat. 

“ Very good, sir.” 

There was a little trampling up of the gravel, and Wolfen- 
den’s dogcart rapidly disappeared in the distance. Mr. Sabin, 
with set face and a hard glitter in his eyes went back into 
the morning room. Helene was still on her knees by 
Wolfenden’s prostrate figure when he entered. She spoke 
to him without looking up. 

“ He is a little better, I think ; he opened his eyes just 
now.” 

“ He is not seriously hurt,” Mr. Sabin said ; “ there may 
be some slight concussion, nothing more. The question is, 
first, what to do with him, and secondly, how to make the 
best use of the time which must elapse before he will be well 
enough to go home.” 

Sh^ looked at him now in horror, He was always like 


THE SECRET OF MR. SABIN’S NIECE 


255 


Ihis, unappalled by anything which might happen, eager 
only to turn every trick of fortune to his own ends. Surely 
his nerves were of steel and his heart of iron. 

“ I think,” she said, “ that I should first make sure that 
he is likely to recover at all.” 

Mr. Sabin answered mechanically, his thoughts seemed 
far away. 

“ His recovery is a thing already assured,” he said. “His 
skull was too hard to crack ; he will be laid up for an hour 
or two. What I have to decide is how to use that hour or 
two to the best possible advantage.” 

She looked away from him and shuddered. This pas- 
sionate absorption of all his energies into one channel had 
made a fiend of the man. Her slowly growing purpose took 
to itself root and branch, as she knelt by the side of the 
young Englishman, who only a few moments ago had seemed 
the very embodiment of all manly vigour. 

Mr. Sabin stood up. He had arrived at a determination. 

“Helene,” he said, “I am going away for an hour, 
perhaps two. Will you take care of him until I re- 
turn?’’ 

“ Yes.” 

“You will promise not to leave him, or to send for a 
doctor ? ” 

“ I will promise, unless he seems to grow worse.” 

“ He will not get worse, he will be conscious in less than 
an hour. Keep him with you as long as you can, he will be 
safer here. Remember that ! ” 

“ I will remember,” she said. 

He left the room, and soon she heard the sound of 
carriage wheels rolling down the avenue. His departure 
was an intense relief to her. She watched the carriage, 
furiously driven, disappear along the road. Then she 
returned to Wolfenden’s side. For nearly an hour she 
remained there, bathing his head, forcing now and then 




MyST£I^IOUS MR, SABIN 


a little brandy between his teeth, and watching his breathing 
become more regular and the ghastly whiteness leaving'his 
face. And all the while she was thoughtful. Once or twice 
her hands touched his hair tenderly, almost caressingly. 
There was a certain wistfulness in her regard of him. She 
bent close over his face ; he was still apparently as uncon- 
scious as ever. She hesitated for a moment ; the red colour 
burned in one bright spot on her cheeks. She stooped 
down and kissed him on the forehead, whispering something 
under her breath. Almost before she could draw back, 
he opened his eyes. She was overwhelmed with confusion, 
but seeing that he had no clear knowledge of what had 
happened, she rapidly recovered herself. He looked around 
him and then up into her face. 

“ What has happened ? ” he asked. “ Where am I ? ” 

“You are at the Lodge,” she said quietly. “You called 
to see Mr. Sabin this morning, you know, and I am afraid 
you must have quarrelled.” 

“ Ah ! it was that beastly stick,” he said slowly. “ He 
struck at me suddenly. Where is he now ? ” 

She did not answer him at once. It was certainly better 
not to say that she had seen him driven rapidly away only a 
short time ago, with his horses’ heads turned to Deringham 
Hall. 

“ He will be back soon,” she said. “ Do not think about 
him, please. I cannot tell you how sorry I am.” 

He was recovering himself rapidly. Something in her 
eyes was sending the blood warmly through his veins ; he 
felt better every instant. 

“ I do not want to think about him,” he murmured, “ I 
do not want to think about any one else but you.” 

She looked down at him with a half pathetic, half 
humorous twitching of her lips. 

“ You must please not make love to me, or I shall have 
to leave you,” she said. “ The idea of thinking about such 


THE SECRET OF MR. SABIN'S NIECE 257 

a thing in your condition! You don’t want to send me 
away, do you?” 

“ On the contrary,” he answered, “ I want to keep you 
always with me.” 

“That,” she said briefly, “is impossible.” 

“ Nothing,” he declared, “ is impossible, if only we make 
up our minds to it. I have made up mine! ” 

“ You are very masterful 1 Art all Englishmen as confi- 
dent as you ? ” 

“ I know nothing about other men,” he declared. “ But 
I love you, Helene, and I am not sure that you do not care 
a little for me.” 

She drew her hand away from his tightening clasp. 

“I am going,” she said; “it is your own fault — you have 
driven me away.” 

Her draperies rustled as she moved towards the door, but 
she did not go far. 

“ I do not feel so well,” he said quietly ; “ I believe that 
I am going to faint.” 

She was on her knees by his side again in a moment. 
For a fainting man, the clasp of his fingers around hers was 
wonderfully strong. 

“ I feel better now,” he announced calmly. “ I shall be 
all right if you stay quietly here, and don’t move about.” 

She looked at him doubtfully. 

“ I do not believe,” she said, “ that you felt ill at all; you 
are taking advantage of me ! ” 

“ I can assure you that I am not,” he answered ; “ when 
you are here I feel a different man.” 

“ I am quite willing to stay if you will behave yourself,” 
she said. 

“ Will you please define good behaviour ? ” he begged. 

“In the present instance,” she laughed, “it consists in 
not saying silly things.” 

“A thing which is true cannot be silly,” he protested. 

17 


2S8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ It is true that I am never happy without you. That is 
why I shall never give you up.” 

She looked down at him with bright eyes, and a frown 
which did not come easily. 

“If you persist in making love to me,” she said, “I 
am going away. It is not permitted, understand that ! ” 

He sighed. 

“ I am afraid,” he answered softly, “ that I shall always be 
indulging in the luxury of the forbidden. For I love you, 
and I shall never weary of telling you so.” 

“Then I must see,” she declared, making a subtle 
but unsuccessful attempt to disengage her hand, “ that you 
have fewer opportunities.” 

“ If you mean that,” he said, “ I must certainly make the 
most of this one. Helene, you could care for me, I know, 
and I could make you happy. You say ^ No ’ to me 
because there is some vague entanglement — I will not call it 
an engagement — with some one else. You do not care for 
him, I am sure. Don’t marry him! It will be for your 
sorrow. So many women’s lives are spoilt like that* 
Dearest,” he added, gaining courage from her averted 
face, “ I can make you happy, I am sure of it ! I do 
not know who you are or who your people are, but they 
shall be my people — nothing matters, except that I love you. 
I don’t know what to say to you, Helene. There is some- 
thing shadowy in your mind which seems to you to come 
between us. I don’t know what it is, or I would dispel it. 
Tell me, dear, won’t you give me a chance ? ” 

She yielded her other hand to his impatient fingers, and 
looked down at him wistfully. Yet there was something in 
her gaze which he could not fathom. Of one thing he was 
very sure, there was a little tenderness shining out of 
her dark, brilliant eyes, a little regret, a little indecision. 
On the whole he was hopeful. 

“Dear,” she said softly, “perhaps I do care for you 


THE SECRET OF MR. SABIN’S NIECE 


259 


a little. Perhaps — well, some time in die future — what you 
are thinking of might be possible; I cannot say Something, 
apart from you, has happened, which has changed my life. 
You must let me go for a little while. But I will promise 
you this. The entanglement of which you spoke shall be 
broken off. I will have no more to do with that man ! ” 

He sat upright. 

“ Helene,” he said, “ you are making me very happy, but 
there is one thing which I must ask you, and which you 
must forgive me for asking. This entanglement of which 
you speak has nothing to do with Mr. Sabin ? ” 

“ Nothing whatever,” she answered promptly. “ How I 
should like to tell you everything ! But I have made a 
solemn promise, and I must keep it. My lips are sealed. 
But one thing I should like you to understand, in case you 
have ever had any doubt about it. Mr. Sabin is really my 
uncle, my mother’s brother. He is engaged in a great 
enterprise in which I am a necessary figure. He has 
suddenly become very much afraid of you.” 

“Afraid of me!” Wolfenden repeated. 

She nodded. 

“ I ought to tell you, perhaps, that my marriage with some 
one else is necessary to insure the full success of his plans. 
So you see he has set himself to keep us apart.” 

“The more you tell me, the more bewildered I get,” 
Wolfenden declared. “What made him attack me just 
now without any warning? Surely he did not wish to 
kill me?” 

Her hand within his seemed to grow colder. 

“ You were imprudent,” she said. 

“ Imprudent ! In what way ? ” 

“You told him that you had sent for Mr. C. to come 
and go through your father’s papers.” 

“What of it?” 

“ I cannot tell you any more ! ” 


26 o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


Wolfenden rose to his feet ; he was still giddy, but he was 
able to stand. 

“All that he told me here was a tissue of lies then! 
Helene, I will not leave you with such a man. You cannot 
continue to live with him.” 

“ I do not intend to,” she answered ; “ I want to get 
away. What has happened to-day is more than I can 
pardon, even from him. Yet you must not judge him too 
harshly. In his way he is a great man, and he is planning 
great things which are not wholly for his advantage. But he 
is unscrupulous ! So long as the end is great, he believes 
himself justified in stooping to any means.” 

Wolfenden shuddered. 

“ You must not live another day with him,” he exclaimed ; 
“you will come to Deringham Hall. My mother will be 
only too glad to come and fetch you. It is not very cheer- 
ful there just now, but anything is better than leaving you 
with this man.” 

She looked at him curiously. Her eyes were soft with 
something which suggested pity, but resembled tears. 

“ No,” she said, “ that would not do at all. You must 
not think because I have been living with Mr. Sabin that I 
have no other relations or friends. I have a very great many 
of both, only it was arranged that I should leave them for a 
while. I can go back at any time ; I am altogether my own 
mistress.” 

“ Then go back at once,” he begged her feverishly. “ I 
could not bear to think of you living here with this man 
another hour. Have your things put together now and tell 
your maid. Let me take you to the station. I want to see 
you leave this infernal house, and this atmosphere of cheat- 
ing and lies, when I do I ” 

Her lips parted into the ghost of a smile. 

“ I have not found so much to regret in my stay here,” 

she said softly, 


THE SECRET OF MR. SAEim NIECE 


261 


He held out his arms, but she eluded him gently. 

“ I hope,” he said, “ nay, I know that you will never 
regret it. Never ! Tell me what you are going to do 
now ? ” 

“I shall leave here this afternoon,” she said, “and go 
straight to some friends in London. Then I shall make 
new plans, or rather set myself to the remaking of old ones. 
When I am ready, I will write to you. But remember 
again — I make no promise ! ” 

He held out his hands. 

“ But you will write to me ? ” 

She hesitated. 

“ No, I shall not write to you. I am not going to give 
you my address even; you must be patient for a little 
while.” 

“You will not go away? You will not at least leave 
England without seeing me ? ” 

“ Not unless I am compelled,” she promised, “ and 
then, if I go, I will come back again, or let you know 
where I am. You need not fear; I am not going to slip 
away and be lost ! You shall see me again.” 

Wolfenden was dissatisfied. 

“ I hate letting you go,” he said. “ I hate all this 
mystery. When one comes to think of it, I do not even 
know your name ! It is ridiculous ! Why cannot I take 
you to London, and we can be married to-morrow. Then 
I should have the right to protect you against this black- 
guard.” 

She laughed softly. Her lips were parted in dainty 
curves, and her eyes were lit with merriment. 

“How delightful you are,” she exclaimed. “And to 
think that the women of my country call you Englishmen 
slow wooers ! ” 

“ Won’t you prove the contrary ? ” he begged. 

She shook her head. 


202 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIS 


“ It is already proved. But if you are sure you feel well 
enough to walk, please go now. I want to catch the 
afternoon train to London.” 

He held out his hands and tried once more to draw her 
to him. But she stepped backwards laughing. 

“ You must please be patient,” she said, “ and remember 
that to day I am betrothed to — somebody else ! Good- 
bye 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXXIIi 


MR. SABIN TRIUMPHS 

WoLFENDEN, for perhaps the first time in his life, chose the 
inland road home. He was still feeling faint and giddy, 
and the fresh air only partially revived him. He walked 
slowly, and rested more than once. It took him almost 
half an hour to reach the cross roads. Here he sat on a 
stile for a few minutes, until he began to ffeel himself again. 
Just as he was preparing to resume his walk, he was aware 
of a carriage being driven rapidly towards him, along the 
private road from Deringham Hall. 

He stood quite still and watched it. The roads were 
heavy after much rain, and the mud was leaping up into 
the sunshine from the flying wheels, bespattering the car- 
riage, and reaching even the man who sat upon the box. 
The horses had broken into a gallop, the driver was leaning 
forward whip in hand. He knew at once whose carriage 
it was : it was the little brougham which Mr. Sabin had 
brought down from London. He had been up to the hall, 
then ! Wolfenden’s face grew stern. He stood well out in 
the middle of the road. The horses would have to be 
checked a little at the sharp turn before him. They would 
probably shy a little, seeing him stand there in the centre 
of the road ; he would be able to bring them to a standstill. 
§0 he remained there motionless. Nearer and nearer they 


264 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


came. Wolfenden set his teeth hard and forgot his dizzi- 
ness. 

They were almost upon him now. To his surprise the 
driver was making no effort to check his galloping horses. 
It seemed impossible that they could round that narrow 
corner at the pace they were going. A froth of white foam 
was on their bits, and their eyes were bloodshot. They 
were almost upon Wolfenden before he realised what was 
happening. They made no attempt to turn the corner 
which he was guarding, but flashed straight past him along 
the Cromer road. Wolfenden shouted and waved his 
arms, but the coachman did not even glance in his direc- 
tion. He caught a glimpse of Mr. Sabin’s face as he 
leaned back amongst the cushions, dark, satyr-like, forbid- 
ding. The thin lips seemed to part into a triumphant 
smile as he saw Wolfenden standing there. It was all over 
in a moment. The carriage, with its whirling wheels, was 
already a speck in the distance. 

Wolfenden looked at his watch. It was five-and-twenty 
minutes to one. Mr. Sabin’s purpose was obvious. He 
was trying to catch the one o’clock express to London. 
To pursue that carriage was absolutely hopeless. Wolfen- 
den set his face towards Deringham Hall and ran steadily 
along the road. He was filled with vague fears. The 
memory of Mr. Sabin’s smile haunted him. He had 
succeeded. By what means? Perhaps by violence! 
Wolfenden forgot his own aching head. He was filled 
only with an intense anxiety to reach his destination. If 
Mr. Sabin had so much as raised his hand, he should pay 
for it. He understood now why that blow had been given. 
It was to keep him out of the way. As he ran on, his 
teeth clenched, and his breath coming fast, he grew hot 
with passionate anger. He had been Mr. Sabin’s dupe! 
Curse the man. 

He turned the final corner in the drive, climbed the 


MR. SABIN TRIUMPHS 


265 


steps and entered the hall. The servants were standing 
about as usual. There was no sign of anything having 
happened. They looked at him curiously, but that might 
well be, owing to his dishevelled condition. 

“Where is the Admiral Groves? ” he asked breathlessly. 

“ His lordship is in the billiard-room,” the man answered. 

Wolfenden stopped short in his passage across the hall, 
and looked at the man in amazement. 

“Where?” 

“In the billiard-room, my lord,” the man repeated. 
“ He was inquiring for you only a moment ago.” 

Wolfenden turned sharp to the left and entered the 
billiard-room. His father was standing there with his coat 
off and a cue in his hand. Directly he turned round 
Wolfenden was aware of a peculiar change n his face and 
expression. The hard lines had vanished, every trace of 
anxiety seemed to have left him. His eyes were soft and 
as clear as a child’s. He turned to Wolfenden with a 
bland smile, and immediately began to chalk his cue. 

“ Come and play me a game. Wolf,” he cried out cheer- 
fully. “You’ll have to give me a few. I’m so out of 
practice. We’ll make it a hundred, and you shall give me 
twenty. Which will you have, spot, or plain ? ” 

Wolfenden gulped down his amazement with an effort. 

“ I’ll take plain,” he said. “ It’s a long time, isn’t it, 
since we played ? ” 

His father faced him for a minute and seemed perplexed. 

“ Not so very long, surely. Wasn’t it yesterday, or the 
day before ? ” 

Wolfenden wondered for a moment whether that blow 
had affected his brain. It was years since he had seen the 
billiard-room at Deringham Hall opened. 

“ I don’t exactly remember,” he faltered. “ Perhaps I 
was mistaken. Time goes so quickly.” 

“ I wonder,” the Admiral said, making a cannon and 


266 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


stepping briskly round the table, “ how it goes at all with 
you young men who do nothing. Great mistake to have 
no profession, Wolf ! I wish I could make you see it.” 

“ I quite agree with you,” Wolfenden said. “ You must 
not look upon me as quite an idler, though. I am a full- 
fledged barrister, you know, although I do not practise, 
and I have serious thoughts of Parliament.” 

The Admiral shook his head. 

“ Poor career, my boy, poor career for a gentleman’s son, 
Take my advice and keep out of Parliament. I am going 
to pot the red. I don’t like the red ball. Wolf ! It keeps 
looking at me like — like that man ! Ah ! ” 

He flung his cue with a rattle upon the floor of inlaid 
wood, and started back. 

“ Look, WoP ! ” he cried. “ He’s grinning at me ! Come 
here, boy ! Tell me the truth ! Have I been tricked ? 
He told me that he was Mr. C. and I gave him everything ! 
Look at his face how it changes ! He isn’t like C. now ! 
He is like — who is it he is like ? C.’s face is not so pale 
as that, and he does not limp. I seem to remember him 
too ! Can’t you help me ? Can’t you see him, boy ? ” 

He had been moving backwards slowly. He was leaning 
now against the wall, his face blanched and perfectly blood- 
less, his eyes wild and his pupils dilated. Wolfenden laid 
his cue down and came over to his side. 

“ No, I can’t see him, father,” he said gently. “ I think 
it must be fancy ; you have been working too hard.” 

“You are blind, boy, blind,” the Admiral muttered. 
“ Where was it I saw him last ? There were sands — and a 
burning sun — his shot went wide, but I aimed low and I 
hit him. He carried himself bravely. He was an aristocrat, 
and he never forgot it. But why does he call himself Mr. 
C. ? What has he to do with my work ? ” 

Wolfenden choked down a lump in his throat. He 
began to surniise what had happened, 


MR. SABIN TRIUMFHS 267 

“ Let us go into the other room, father,” he said gently. 
** It is too cold for billiards.” 

The Admiral held out his arm. He seemed suddenly 
weak and old. His eyes were dull and he was muttering 
to himself. Wolfenden led him gently from the room and 
upstairs to his own apartment. There he made an excuse 
for leaving him for a moment, and hurried down into the 
library. Mr. Blatherwick was writing there alone. 

“ Blatherwick,” Wolfenden exclaimed, “what has hap- 
pened this morning ? Who has been here ? ” 

Mr. Blatherwick blushed scarlet. 

“ Miss Merton called, and a gentleman with her, from the 
Home Office, I b-b-believe.” 

“Who let him into the library?” Wolfenden asked 
sternly. 

Mr. Blatherwick fingered his collar, as though he found 
it too tight for him, and appeared generally uncomfortable. 

“At Miss Merton’s request. Lord Wolfenden,” he said 
nevously, “ I allowed him to come in. I understood that 
he had been sent for by her ladyship. I trust that I did 
not do wrong.” 

“You are an ass, Blatherwick,” Wolfenden exclaimed 
angrily. “You seem to enjoy lending yourself to be the 
tool of swindlers and thieves. My father has lost his 
reason entirely now, and it is your fault. You had better 
leave here at once ! You are altogether too credulous for 
this world.” 

Wolfenden strode away towards his mother’s room, but a 
cry from upstairs directed his steps. Lady Deringham and 
he met outside his father’s door, and entered the room 
together. They came face to face with the Admiral. 

“ Out of my way !” he cried furiously. “ Come with me, 
Wolf! We must follow him. I must have my papers 
back, or kill him ! I have been dreaming. He told me 
that he was C. I gave him all he asked for I We 


268 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


must have them back. Merciful heavens ! if he publishes 
them, we are ruined . . . where did he come from ? . . . 
They told me that he was dead. . . . Has he crawled back 
out of hell ? I shot him once ! He has never forgotten it ! 
This is his vengeance ! Oh, God ! ” 

He sank down into a chair. The perspiration stood out 
in great beads upon his white forehead. He was shaking 
from head to foot. Suddenly his head drooped in the act 
of further speech, the words died away upon his lips. He 
was unconscious. The Countess knelt by his side and 
Wolfenden stood over her. 

“ Do you know anything of what has happened ? ” Wol- 
fenden asked. 

“Very little,” she whispered; “somehow, he — Mr. 
Sabin — got into the library, and the shock sent him — ^like 
this. Here is the doctor.” 

Dr. Whitlett was ushered in. They all three looked 
down upon the Admiral, and the doctor asked a few rapid 
questions. There was certainly a great change in his face. 
A strong line or two had disappeared, the countenance was 
milder and younger. It was like the face of a child. Wol- 
fenden was afraid to see the eyes open, he seemed already 
in imagination to picture to himself their vacant, unseeing 
light. Dr. Whitlett shook his head sadly. 

“ I am afraid,” he said gravely, “ that when Lord Dering- 
ham recovers he will remember nothing ! He has had a 
severe shock, and there is every indication that his mind 
has given way.” 

Wolfenden drew his teeth together savagely. This, then, 
was the result of Mr. Sabin’s visit. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


BLANCHE Merton’s little plot 

At about four o’clock in the afternoon, as Helene was 
preparing to leave the Lodge, a telegram was brought in to 
her from Mr. Sabin. 

“I have succeeded and am now en route for London. 
You had better follow when convenient, but do not be later 
than to-morrow.” 

She tore it into small pieces and hummed a tune. 

“ It is enough,” .she murmured. “ I am not ambitious 
any longer. I am going to London, it is true, my dear 
uncle, but not to Kensington ! You can play Richelieu to 
Henri and my cousin, if it pleases you. I wonder ” 

Her face grew softer and more thoughtful. Suddenly 
she laughed outright to herself. She went and sat down on 
the couch, where Wolfenden had been lying. 

“ It would have been simpler,” she said to herself. “ How 
like a man to think of such a daring thing. I wish — I 
almost wish — I had consented. What a delightful sensation 
it would have made. Cecile will laugh when I tell her of 
this. To her I have always seemed ambitious, and ambi- 
tious only . . . and now I have found out that I have a 
heart only to give it away. Helas!” 

There was a knock at the door. A servant entered. 

“ Miss Merton would be glad to know if you could spare 
her a moment before you left, Miss,” the man announced. 

069 


270 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


Helene glanced at the clock. 

“ I am going very shortly,” she said ; “ she had better 
come in now.” 

The man withdrew, but returned almost immediately, 
ushering in Miss Merton. For the first time Helene 
noticed how pretty the girl was. Her trim, dainty little 
figure was shown off to its utmost advantage by the neat 
tailor gown she was wearing, and there was a bright glow of 
colour in her cheeks. Helene, who had no liking for her 
uncle’s typewriter, and who had scarcely yet spoken to 
her, remained standing, waiting to hear what she had to 
say. 

“ I wanted to see Mr. Sabin,” she began. “ Can you tell 
me when he will be back ? ” 

“ He has gone to London,” Helene replied. He will 
not be returning here at all.” 

The girl’s surprise was evidently genuine. 

“But he said nothing about it a few hours ago,” she 
exclaimed. “You are in his confidence, I know. This 
morning he gave me something to do. I was to get Mr. 
Blatherwick away from the Hall, and keep him with me as 
long as I could. You do not know Mr. Blatherwick ? then 
you cannot sympathise with me. Since ten o’clock I have 
been with him. At last I could keep him no longer. He 
has gone back to the Hall.” 

“Mr. Sabin will probably write to you,” Helene said. 
“ This house is taken for another fortnight, and you can of 
course remain here, if you choose. You will certainly hear 
from him within the next day or two.” 

Miss Merton shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, I shall take a holiday,” she declared. “I’ve 
finished typing all the copy I had. Haven’t you dropped 
something there ? ” 

She stooped suddenly forward, and picked up a locket 
from the floor, 


BLANCHE MERTON’S LITTLE PLOT 


271 


“ Is this yours ? ” she asked. Why ” 

She held the locket tightly in her hand. Her eyes 
seemed rivetted upon it. It was very small and fashioned 
of plain gold, with a coronet and letter on the face. Miss 
Merton looked at it in amazement. 

“Why, this belongs to Wolf— to Lord Wolfenden,” she 
exclaimed. 

Helene looked at her in cold surprise. 

“ It is very possible,” she said. “ He was here a short 
time ago.” 

Miss Merton clenched the locket in her hand, as though 
she feared for its safety. 

“ Here ! In this room ? ” 

“ Certainly ! He called to see Mr. Sabin and remained 
for some time.” 

Miss Merton was a little paler. She did not look quite 
so pretty now. 

“ Did you see him ? ” she asked. 

Helene raised her eyebrows. 

“ I scarcely understand,” she said, “ what business it is of 
yours. Since you ask me, however, I have no objection to 
telling you that I did see Lord Wolfenden. He remained 
some time here with me after Mr. Sabin left.” 

“Perhaps,” Miss Merton suggested, with acidity, “that 
was why I was sent out of the way.” 

Helene looked at her through half-closed eyes. 

“ I am afraid,” she said, “ that you are a very impertinent 
young woman. Be so good as to put that locket upon the 
table and leave the room.” 

The girl did neither. On the contrary, she slipped the 
locket into the bosom of her gown. 

“ I will take care of this,” she remarked. 

Helene laid her hand upon the bell. 

“ I am afraid,” she said, “ that you must be unwell. I 
am going to ring the bell. Perhaps you will be good 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


272 

enough to place the locket on that table and leave the 
room.” 

Miss Merton drew herself up angrily. 

“ I have a better claim upon the locket than any one,” 
she said. “ I am seeing Lord Wolfenden constantly. I 
will give it to him.” 

“Thank you, you need not trouble,” Helene answered. 
“ I shall send a servant with it to Deringham Hall. Will 
you be good enough to give it to me ? ” 

Miss Merton drew a step backwards and shook her head. 

“ I think,” she said, “ that I am more concerned in it 
than you are, for I gave it to him.” 

“ You gave it to him ? ” 

Miss Merton nodded. 

“ Yes ! If you don’t believe me, look here.” 

She drew the locket from her bosom and, holding it out, 
touched a spring. There was a small miniature inside; 
Helene, leaning over, recognised it at once. It was a like- 
ness of the girl herself. She felt the colour leave her 
cheeks, but she did not flinch. 

“ I was not aware,” she said, “ that you were on such 
friendly terms with Lord Wolfenden.” 

The girl smiled oddly. 

“ Lord Wolfenden,” she said, “ has been very kind to 
me.” 

“ Perhaps,” Helene continued, “ I ought not to ask, but 
I must confess that you have surprised me. Is Lord Wol- 
. fenden — your lover ? ” 

Miss Merton shut up the locket with a click and returned 
it to her bosom. There was no longer any question as to 
her retaining it. She looked at Helene thoughtfully. 

“ Has he been making love to you ? ” she asked abruptly. 

Helene raised her eyes and looked at her. The other 
girl felt suddenly very insignificant. 

. “ You must not ask me impertinent questions,” she said 


BLANCHE MERTONS LITTLE PLOT 273 

calmly. “ Of course you need not tell me anything unless 
you choose. It is for you to please yourself.” 

The girl was white with anger. She had not a tithe of 
Helene’s self-control, and she felt that she was not making 
the best of her opportunities. 

“Lord Wolfenden,” she said slowly, “did promise to 
marry me once. I was his father’s secretary, and I was 
turned away on his account.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

There was a silence between the two women. Miss 
Merton was watching Helene closely, but she was disap- 
pointed. Her face was set in cold, proud lines, but she 
showed no signs of trouble. 

“ Under these circumstances,” Helene said, “ the locket 
certainly belongs to you. If you will allow me, I will ring 
now for my maid. I am leaving here this evening.” 

“ I should like,” Miss Merton said, “ to tell you about 
Lord Wolfenden and myself.” 

Helene smiled languidly. 

“You will excuse me, I am sure,” she said. “It is 
scarcely a matter which interests me.” 

Miss Merton flushed angrily. She was at a disadvantage 
and she knew it. 

“ I thought that you were very much interested in Lord 
Wolfenden,” she said spitefully. 

“ I have found him much pleasanter than the majority 
of Englishmen.” 

“ But you don’t care to hear about him — from me!” Miss 
Merton exclaimed. 

Helene smiled. 

“I have no desire to be rude,” she said, “but since you 
put it in that way I will admit that you are right.” 

The girl bit her lip. She felt that she had only partially 
succeeded. This girl was more than her match. She 
suddenly changed her tactics. 

18 


274 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ Oh ! you are cruel,” she exclaimed. “ You want to 
take him from me; I know you do! He promised — to 
marry me — before you came. He must marry me I I dare 
not go home ! ” 

“ I can assure you,” Helene said quietly, “ that I have 
not the faintest desire to take Lord Wolfenden from you — 
or from any one else 1 I do not like this conversation at all, 
and I do not intend to continue it. Perhaps if you have 
nothing more to say you will go to your room, or if you 
wish to go away I will order a carriage for you. Please 
make up your mind quickly.” 

Miss Merton sprang up and walked towards the door. 
Her pretty face was distorted with anger. 

“ I do not want your carriage,” she said. “ I am leaving 
the house, but I will walk.” 

“Just as you choose, if you only go,” Helene murmured. 

She was already at the door, but she turned back. 

“ I can’t help it I ” she exclaimed. “ Pve got to ask you 
a question. Has Lord Wolfenden asked you to marry 
him?” 

Helene was disgusted, but she was not hard-hearted. The 
girl was evidently distressed — it never occurred to her that 
she might not be in earnest. She herself could not understand 
such a lack of self-respect. A single gleam of pity mingled 
with her contempt. 

“ I am not at liberty to answer your question,” she said 
coldly, “ as it concerns Lord Wolfenden as well as myself. 
But I have no objection to telling you this. I am the 
Princess Helene of Bourbon, and I am betrothed to my 
cousin. Prince Henri of Ortrens ! So you see that I am not 
hkely to marry Lord Wolfenden 1 Now, please, go away at 
once 1 ” 

Miss Merton obeyed. She left the room literally speech- 
less. Helene rang the bell. 

“ If that young person — Miss Merton I think her name 


BLANCHE MERTONS LITTLE PLOT 


275 


is — ^attempts to see me again before I leave, be sure that she 
is not admitted,” she told the servant. 

The man bowed and left the room. Helene was left 
alone. She sank into an easy chair by the fire and leaned 
her head upon her hand. Her self-control was easy and 
magnificent, but now that she was alone her face had 
softened. The proud, little mouth was quivering. A feeling 
of uneasiness, of utter depression stole over her. Tears 
stood for a moment in her eyes but she brushed them 
fiercely away. 

“ How could he have dared ? ” she murmured. “ I wish 
that I were a man ! After all, then, it must be — ambi- 
tion 1” 


CHAPTER XXXV 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 

Mr. Sabin, whose carriage had set him down at the Cromer 
railway station with barely two minutes to spare, took his 
seat in an empty first-class smoking carriage of the London 
train and deliberately lit a fine cigar. He was filled with 
that sense of triumphant self-satisfaction which falls to the 
lot of a man who, after much arduous labour successfully 
accomplished, sees very near at hand the great desire of his 
life. Two days’ more quiet work, and his task was done. 
All that he had pledged himself to give, he would have 
ready for the offering. The finishing touches were but 
a matter of detail. It had been a great undertaking — more 
difficult at times than he had ever reckoned for. He told 
himself with some complacency that no other man breath- 
ing could have brought it to so satisfactory a conclusion. 
His had been a life of great endeavours ; this one, however, 
was the crowning triumph of his career. 

He watched the people take their seats in the train with 
idle eyes ; he was not interested in any of them. He 
scarcely saw their faces; they were not of his world nor he 
of theirs. But suddenly he received a rude shock. He 
sat upright and wiped away the moisture from the window 
in order that he might see more clearly. A young man in 
a long ulster was buying newspapers from a boy only a yard 
or two away. Something about the figure and manner 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 


277 


of standing seemed to Mr. Sabin vaguely familiar. He 
waited until his head was turned, and the eyes of the 
two men met — then the last vestige of doubt disappeared. 
It was Felix ! Mr. Sabin leaned back in his corner with 
darkening face. He had noticed to his dismay that the 
encounter, surprising though it had been to him, had 
been accepted by Felix as a matter of course — he was 
obviously prepared for it. He had met Mr. Sabin’s 
anxious and incredulous gaze with a faint, peculiar smile. 
His probable presence in the train had evidently been 
confidently reckoned upon. Felix had been watching him 
secretly, and knowing what he did know of that young man, 
Mr. Sabin was seriously disturbed. He did not hesitate for 
a moment, however, to face the position. He determined 
at once upon a bold course of action. Letting down the 
window he put out his head. 

‘‘Are you going to town?” he asked Felix, as though 
seeing him then was the most natural thing in the world. 

The young man nodded. 

“Yes, it’s getting pretty dreary down here, isn’t it? 
You’re off back, I see.” 

Mr. Sabin assented. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ I’ve had about enough of it. Besides, 
I’m overdue at Pau, and I’m anxious to get there. Are you 
coming in here ? ” 

Felix hesitated. At first the suggestion had astonished 
him; almost immediately it became a temptation. It 
would be distinctly piquant to travel with this man. On 
the other hand it was distinctly unwise ; it was running an 
altogether unnecessary risk. Mr. Sabin read his thoughts 
with the utmost ease. 

“ I should rather like to have a little chat with you,” he 
said quietly; “you are not afraid, are you? I am quite 
unarmed, and as you see Nature has not made me for a 
fighting man.” 


278 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIN 


Felix hesitated no longer. He motioned to the porter 
who was carrying his dressing-case and golf clubs, and 
had them conveyed into Mr. Sabin’s csgriage. He himself 
took the opposite seat. 

“ I had no idea,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ that you were in 
the neighbourhood.” 

Felix smiled. 

“You have been so engrossed in your — golf,” he re- 
marked. “ It is a fascinating game, is it not ? ” 

“ Very,” Mr. Sabin assented. “ You yourself are a 
devotee, I see.” 

“I am a beginner,” Felix answered, “and a very clumsy 
beginner too. I take my clubs with me, however, whenever 
I go to the coast at this time of year ; they save one from 
being considered a madman.” 

“ It is singular,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ that you should 
have chosen to visit Cromer just now. It is really a most 
interesting meeting. I do not think that I have had the 
pleasure of seeing you since that evening at the ‘Milan,’ 
when your behaviour towards me — forgive my alluding to it 
— was scarcely considerate.” 

Mr. Sabin was quite friendly and unembarrassed. He 
seemed to treat the affair as a joke. Felix looked glumly 
out of the window. 

“Your luck stood you in good stead — as usual,” he said. 
“I meant to kill you that night. You see I don’t mind 
confessing it! I had sworn to make the attempt the 
first time we met face to face.” 

“ Considering that we are quite alone,” Mr. Sabin 
remarked, looking around the carriage, “and that from 
physical considerations my life under such conditions is 
entirely at your mercy, I should like some assurance that 
you have no intention of repeating the attempt. It would 
add very materially to my comfort.” 

The young man smiled without immediately answering. 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 


279 


Then he was suddenly grave ; he appeared to be reflecting. 
Almost imperceptibly Mr. Sabin’s hand stole towards the 
window. He was ; making a mental calculation as to 
what height above the carriage window the communi- 
cation cord might be. Felix, watching his fingers, smiled 
again. 

“ You need have no fear,” he said ; “ the cause of 
personal enmity between you and me is dead. You have 
nothing more to fear from me at any time.” 

Mr. Sabin’s hand slid down again to his side. 

“ I am charmed to hear it,” he declared. “ You are, I 
presume, in earnest ? ” 

“ Most certainly. It is as I say ; the cause for personal 
enmity between us is removed. Save for a strong personal 
dislike, which under the circumstances I trust that you will 
pardon me ” — Mr. Sabin bowed — “ I have no feeling towards 
you whatever ! ” 

Mr. Sabin drew a somewhat exaggerated sigh of relief. 
“ I live,” he said, “ with one more fear removed. But I 
must confess,” he added, “ to a certain amount of curiosity. 
We have a somewhat tedious journey before us, and 
several hours at our disposal ; would it be asking you 
too much ” 

Felix waved his hand. 

“ Not at all,” he said. “ A few words will explain every- 
thing. I have other matters to speak of with you, but they 
can wait. As you remark, we have plenty of time before 
us. Three weeks ago I received a telegram from Brussels. 
It was from — forgive me, if I do not utter her name in 
your presence ; it seems somehow like sacrilege.” 

Mr. Sabin bowed ; a little red spot was burning through 
the pallor of his sunken cheeks. 

“ I was there,” Felix continued, “ in a matter of twenty- 
four hours. She was ill — believed herself to be dying. We 
spoke together of a little event many years old ; yet which 


28 o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


I venture to think, neither you, nor she, nor I have ever 
forgotten.” 

Mr. Sabin pulled down the blind by his side ; it was only 
a stray gleam of wintry sunshine, which had stolen through 
the grey clouds, but it seemed to dazzle him. 

“It had come to her knowledge that you and I were 
together in London — that -you were once more essaying to 
play a part in civilised and great affairs. And lest our 
meeting should bring harm about, she told me — something 
of which I have always been in ignorance.” 

“Ah!” 

Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his seat. He drew his 
club-foot a little further back ; Felix seemed to be looking 
at it absently. 

“ She showed me,” he continued, “ a little pistol ; she 
explained to me that a woman’s aim is a most uncertain 
thing. Besides, you were some distance away, and your 
spring aside helped you. Then, too, so far as I could see 
from the mechanism of the thing — it was an old and clumsy 
affair — it carried low. At any rate the shot, which was 
doubtless meant For your heart, found a haven in your foot. 
From her lips I learned for the first time that she, the 
sweetest and most timid of her sex, had dared to become 
her own avenger. Life is a sad enough thing, and pleasure 
is rare, yet I tasted pleasure of the keenest and subtlest 
kind when she told me that story. I feel even now some 
slight return of it when I look at your — shall we call 
deformity, and consider how different a person ” 

Mr. Sabin half rose to his feet ; his face was white and 
set, save where a single spot of colour was flaring high up 
near his cheek-bone. His eyes were bloodshot ; for a 
moment he seemed about to strike the other man. Felix 
broke off in his sentence, and watched him warily. 

“ Come,” he said, “ it is not like you to lose control of 
yourself in that manner. It is a simple matter. You 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 


281 


wronged a woman, and she avenged herself magnificently. 
As for me, I can see that my interference was quite uncalled 
for ; I even venture to offer you my apologies for the fright 
I must have given you at the ‘ Milan.’ The account had 
already been straightened by abler hands. I can assure 
you that I am no longer your enemy. In fact, when I look 
at you ” — his eyes seemed to fall almost to the ground — 
“ when I look at you, I permit myself some slight sensation 
of pity for your unfortunate affliction. But it was magni- 
ficent ! Shall we change the subject now ? ” 

Mr. Sabin sat quite still in his corner ; his eyes seemed 
fixed upon a distant hill, bordering the flat country through 
which they were passing. Felix’s stinging words and mock- 
ing smile had no meaning for him. In fact he did not see 
his companion any longer, nor was he conscious of his 
presence. The narrow confines of the railway carriage had 
fallen away. He was in a lofty room, in a chamber of a 
palace, a privileged guest, the lover of the woman whose 
dark, passionate eyes and soft, white arms were gleaming 
there before his eyes. It was but one of many such 
scenes. He shuddered very slightly, as he went back 
further still. He had been faithful to one god, and one 
god only — the god of self! Was it a sign of coming 
trouble, that for the first time for many years he had 
abandoned himself to the impotent morbidness of abstract 
thought? He shook himself free from it with an effort; 
what lunacy ! To-day he was on the eve of a mighty 
success — his feet were planted firmly upon the threshold I 
The end of all his ambitions stood fairly in view, and the 
path to it was wide and easy. Only a little time, and his 
must be one of the first names in Europe 1 The thought 
thrilled him, the little flood of impersonal recollections 
ebbed away ; he was himself again, keen, alert, vigorous I 
Suddenly he met the eyes of his companion fixed stead- 
fastly upon him, and his face darkened. There was some- 


282 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


thing ominous about this man’s appearance ; his very presence 
seemed like a foreboding of disaster. 

“ I am much obliged to you for your little romance,” he 
said. “There is one point, however, which needs some 
explanation. If your interest is really, as you suggest, at 
an end, what are you doing down here? I presume that 
your appearance is not altogether a coincidence.” 

“ Certainly not,” Felix answered. “ Let me correct you, 
however, on one trifling point. I said, you must remember 
— my personal interest.” 

“ I do not,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ exactly see the dis- 
tinction ; in fact, I do not follow you at all ! ” 

“I am so stupid,” Felix declared apologetically. “I 
ought to have explained myself more clearly. It is even 
possible that you, who know everything, may yet be ignorant 
of my present position.” 

“ I certainly have no knowledge of it,” Mr. Sabin 
admitted. 

Felix was gently astonished. 

“ Really ! I took it for granted, of course, that you knew. 
Well, I am employed — not in any important post, of course 
— at the Russian Embassy. His Excellency has been very 
kind to me.” 

Mr. Sabin for once felt his nerve grow weak ; those evil 
forebodings of his had very swiftly become verified. This 
man was his enemy. Yet he recovered himself almost as 
quickly. What had he to fear ? His was still the winning 
hand. 

“ I am pleased to hear,” he said, “ that you have found 
such creditable employment. I hope you will make every 
effort to retain it ; you have thrown away many chances.” 

Felix at first smiled ; then he leaned back amongst the 
cushions and laughed outright. When he had ceased, he 
wiped the tears from his eyes. He sat up again and looked 
with admiration at the still, pale figure opposite to him. 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 


283 


** You are inimitable,” he said— “ wonderful ! If you 
live long enough, you will certainly become very famous. 
What will it be, I wonder — Emperor, Dictator, President of 
a Republic, the Minister of an Emperor? The latter I 
should imagine ; you were always such an aristocrat. I 
would not have missed this journey for the world. I am 
longing to know what you will say to Prince Lobenski at 
King’s Cross.” 

Mr. Sabin looked at him keenly. 

“ So you are only a lacquey after all, then ? ” he remarked 
— “ a common spy ! ” 

“ Very much at your service,” Felix answered, with a low 
bow. “ A spy, if you like, engaged for the last two weeks 
in very closely watching your movements, and solving 
the mystery of your sudden devotion to a heathenish 
game ! ” 

“ There, at any rate,” Mr. Sabin said calmly, “ you are 
quite wrong. If you had watched my play I flatter myself 
that you would have realised that my golf at any rate was 
no pretence.” 

“ I never imagined,” Felix rejoined, “ that you would be 
anything but proficient at any game in which you cared to 
interest yourself; but I never imagined either that you 
came to Cromer to play golf — especially just now.” 

“ Modern diplomacy,” Mr. Sabin said, after a brief pause, 
“ has undergone, as you may be aware, a remarkable trans- 
formation. Secrecy is now quite out of date ; it is the 
custom amongst the masters to play with the cards upon 
the table.” 

“ There is a good deal in what you say,” Felix answered 
thoughtfully. “ Come, we will play the game, then ! It is 
my lead. Very well ! I have been down here watching 
you continually, with the object of discovering the source 
of this wonderful power by means of which you are pre- 
pared to offer up this country, bound hand and foot, to 


284 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


whichever Power you decide to make terms with. Sounds 
like a fairy tale, doesn’t it ? But you obviously believe in 
it yourself, and Lobenski believes in you.” 

“ Good ! ” Mr. Sabin declared. “ That power of which I 
have spoken I now possess ! It was nearly complete a 
month ago ; an hour’s work now will make it a living and 
invulnerable fact.” 

“You obtained,” Felix said, “your final success this 
afternoon, when you robbed the mad Admiral.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head gently. 

“ I have not robbed any one,” he said ; “ I never use 
force.” 

Felix looked at him reproachfully. 

“ I have heard much that is evil about you,” he said, 
“ but I have never heard before that you were known to — 
to — dear me, it is a very unpleasant thing to say I ” 

“Well, sir?” 

“To cheat at cards ! ” 

Mr. Sabin drew a short, little breath. 

“What I have said is true to the letter,” he repeated. 
“ The Admiral gave me the trifling information I asked for, 
with his own hands.” 

Felix remained incredulous. 

“Then you must add the power of hypnotism,” he 
declared, “ to your other accomplishments.” 

Mr. Sabin laughed scornfully, nevertheless he did not 
seem to be altogether at his ease. The little scene in the 
library at Deringham Hall was not a pleasant recollection 
for him. 

“ The matter after all,” he said coldly, “ is unimportant ; 
it is merely a detail. I will admit that you have done 
your spy’s work well. Now, what will buy your memory, 
and your departure from this train, at the next station ? ” 

Felix smiled. 

“ You are becoming more sensible,” he said; “ it is a very 


A LITTLE GAME OF CARDS 285 

fair question to ask. My price is the faithful fulfilment of 
your contract with my chief.” 

“ I have made no contract with him.” 

“ You have opened negotiations ; he is ready to come to 
terms with you. You have only to name your price.” 

“I have no price,” Mr. Sabin said quietly, “that he 
could pay.” 

“ What Knigenstein can give,” Felix said, “ he can give 
double. The Secret Service funds of Russia are the largest 
in the world ; you can have practically a blank cheque upon 
them.” 

“ I repeat,” Mr. Sabin said, “ I have no price that Prince 
Lobenski could pay. You talk as though I were a black- 
mailer, or a common thief. You have always misunder- 
stood me. Come! I will remember that the cards are 
upon the table ; I will be wholly frank with you. It is 
Knigenstein with whom I mean to treat, and not your 
chief. He has agreed to my terms — Russia never could.” 

Felix was silent for a moment. 

“You are holding,” he said, “your trump card in your 
hand. Whatever in this world Germany could give you, 
Russia could improve upon.” 

“ She could do so,” Mr. Sabin said, “ only at the expense 
of her honour. Come ! here is that trump card. I will 
throw it upon the table ; now you see that my hands are 
empty. My price is the invasion of France, and the res- 
toration of the Monarchy.” 

Felix looked at him as a man looks upon a lunatic. 

“ You are playing with me,” he cried. 

“ I was never more in earnest in my life,” Mr. Sabin 
said. 

“ Do you mean to tell mo that you — in cold blood — are 
working for so visionary, so impossible an end ? ” 

“It is neither visionary,” Mr. Sabin said, “nor impos- 
sible. I do not believe that any man, save myself, properly 


286 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


appreciates the strength of the Royalist party in France. 
Every day, every minute brings it fresh adherents. It is as 
certain that some day a king will reign once more at Ver- 
sailles, as that the sun will set before many hours are past. 
The French people are too bourgeois at heart to love a 
republic. The desire for its abolition is growing up in 
their hearts day by day. You understand me now when 
I say that I cannot treat with your country ? The honour 
of Russia is bound up with her friendship to France. 
Germany, on the other hand, has ready her battle cry. 
She and France have been quivering on the verge of war 
for many a year. My whole hand is upon the table now, 
Felix. Look at the cards, and tell me whether we can 
treat I ” 

Felix was silent. He looked at his opponent with un- 
willing admiration ; the man after all, then, was great. For 
the moment he could think of nothing whatever to say. 

“Now, listen to me,” Mr. Sabin continued earnestly. 
“I made a great mistake when I ever mentioned the 
matter to Prince Lobenski. I cannot treat with him, but 
on the other hand, I do not want to be hampered by his 
importunities for the next few days. You have done your 
duty, and you have done it well. It is not your fault that 
you cannot succeed. Leave the train at the next station — 
disappear for a week, and I will give you a fortune. You 
are young — the world is before you. You can seek dis- 
tinction in whatever way you will. I have a cheque-book 
in my pocket, and a fountain pen. I will give you an order 
on the Credit Lyonnaise for ;£‘2o,ooo.” 

Felix laughed softly; his face was full of admiration. 
He looked at his watch, and began to gather together 
his belongings. 

“ Write out the cheque,” he said ; “ I agree. We shall be 
at the junction in about ten minutes.” 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


THE MODERN RICHELIEU 

** So I have found you at last ! ” 

Mr. Sabin looked up with a distinct start from the table 
where he sat writing. When he saw who his visitor was, he 
set down his pen and rose to receive her at once. He per- 
mitted himself to indulge in a little gesture of relief ; her 
noiseless entrance had filled him with a sudden fear. 

“ My dear Helene,” he said, placing a chair for her, “if 
I had had the least idea that you wished to see me, I would 
have let you know my whereabouts. I am sorry that you 
should have had any difficulty; you should have written” 

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. 

“What does it all mean?” she asked. “Why are you 
masquerading in cheap lodgings, and why do they say at 
Kensington that you have gone abroad ? Have things 
gone wrong?” 

He turned and faced her directly. She saw then that 
pale and haggard though he was, his was not the counte- 
nance of a man tasting the bitterness of failure. 

“Very much the contrary,” he said; “we are on the 
brink of success. All that remains to be done is the fitting 
together of my American work with the last of these papers. 
It will take me about another twenty-four hours.” 

She handed across to him a morning newspaper, which 


288 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Jhe had been carrying in her muff. A certain paragraph 
was marked. 

“ We regret to state that Admiral, the Earl of Deringham, 
was seized yesterday morning with a fit, whilst alone in his 
study. Dr. Bond, of Harley Street, was summoned at once 
to a consultation, but we understand that the case is a 
critical one, and the gravest fears are entertained. Lord 
Deringham was the greatest living authority upon the subject 
of our fleet and coast defences, and we are informed that at 
the time of his seizure he was completing a very important 
work in connection with this subject.” 

Mr. Sabin read the paragraph slowly, and then handed 
the paper back to Helene. 

“ Deringham was a very distinguished man,” he- re- 
marked, “ but he was stark mad, and has been for years. 
They have been able to keep it quiet, only because he was 
harmless.” 

“You remember what I told you about these people,” 
Helene said sternly ; “ I told you distinctly that I would 
not have them harmed in any way. You were at Deringham 
Hall on the morning of his seizure. You went straight 
there from the Lodge.” 

“ That is quite true,” he admitted ; “ but I had nothing 
to do with his illness.” 

“I wish I could feel quite certain of that,” Helene 
answered. “You are a very determined man, and you 
went there to get papers from him by any means. You 
proved that you were altogether reckless as to how you got 
them, by your treatment of Lord Wolfenden. You suc- 
ceeded ! No one living knows by what means ! ” 

He interrupted her with an impatient gesture. 

“ There is nothing in this worth discussion,” he declared. 
“ Lord Deringham is nothing to you — you never even saw 
him in your life, and if you really have any misgivings 
about it, I can assure you that I got what I wanted from 


THE MODERN RICHELIEU 


289 


him without violence. It is not a matter for you to concern 
yourself in, nor is it a matter worth considering at all, 
especially at such a time as the present.” 

She sat quite still, her head resting upon her gloved 
hand. He did not altogether like her appearance. 

“I want you to understand,” he continued slowly, “that 
success, absolute success is ours. I have the personal 
pledge of the German Emperor, signed by his own hand. 
To-morrow at noon the compact is concluded. In a few 
weeks, at the most, the thunderbolt will have fallen. 
These arrogant Islanders will be facing a great invasion, 
whose success is already made absolutely sure. And 
then ” 

He paused : his face kindled with a passionate enthu- 
siasm, his eyes were lit with fire. There was something 
great in the man’s rapt expression. 

■“Then, the only true, the only sweet battle-cry in the 
French tongue, will ring through the woods of Brittany, 
ay, even to the walls of Paris. Vive la France ! Vive la 
Monarchie ! ” 

“ France has suffered so much,” she murmured ; “ do 
not you who love her so tremble when you think of her 
rivers running once more red with blood ? ” 

“ If there be war at all,” he answered, “ it will be brief. 
Year by year the loyalists have gained power and influence. 
I have notes here from secret agents in every town, almost 
in every village ; the great heart of Paris is with us. Henri 
will only have to show himself, and the voice of the people 
will shout him king ! And you ” 

“ For me,” she interrupted, “ nothing ! I withdraw ! 
I will not marry Henri, he must stand his chance alone ! 
His is the elder branch — he is the direct heir to the throne !” 

Mr. Sabin drew in a long breath between his teeth. He 
was nerving himself for a great effort. This fear had been 
the one small, black cloud in the sky of his happiness. 

19 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


290 

Helene,” he said, “ if I believed that you meant — that 
you could possibly mean — what you have this moment 
said, I would tear my compact in two, throw this box 
amongst the flames, and make my bow to my life’s work. 
But you do not mean it. You will change your mind.” 

“ But indeed I shall not ! ” 

“ Of necessity you must ; the alliance between you and 
Henri is absolutely compulsory. You unite the two great 
branches of our royal family. The sound of your name, 
coupled with his, will recall to the ears of France all that 
was most glorious in her splendid history. And apart from 
that, Henri needs such a woman as you for his queen. 
He has many excellent qualities, but he is weak, a trifle 
too easy, a trifle thoughtless.” 

“He is a dissipated roue” she said in. a low tone, with 
curling lip. 

Mr. Sabin, who had been walking restlessly up and down 
the room, came and stood over her, leaning upon his 
wonderful stick. 

“ Helene,” he said gravely, “ for your own sake, and for 
your country’s sake, I charge you to consider well what you 
are doing. What does it matter to you if Henri is even as 
bad as you say, which, mark you, I deny. He is the King of 
France ! Personally, you can be strangers if you please, 
but marry him you must. You need not be his wife, but 
you must be his queen ! Almost you make me ask myself 
whether I am talking to Helene of Bourbon, a Princess 
Royal of France, or to a love-sick English country girl, 
pining for a sweetheart, whose highest ambition it is to bear 
children, and whose destiny is to become a drudge. May 
God forbid it ! May God forbid, that after all these years 
of darkness you should play me false now when the dawn 
is already lightening the sky. Sink your sex ! Forget it ! 
Remember that you are more than a woman — you are royal, 
and your country has the first claim upon your heart. The 


THE MODERN RICHELIEU 


291 


dignity which exalts demands also sacrifices ! Think of 
your great ancestors, who died with this prayer upon their 
lips — that one day their children’s children should win 
again the throne which they had lost. Their eyes may be 
upon you at this moment. Give me a single reason for 
this change in you — one single valid reason, and I will say 
no more.” 

She was silent ; the colour was coming and going in her 
cheeks. She was deeply moved ; the honest passion in his 
tone had thrilled her. 

“I would not dare to suggest, even in a whisper, to 
myself,” he went on, his dark eyes fixed upon her, and his 
voice lowered, “that Helene of Bourbon, Princess of 
Brittany, could set a greater price upon the love of a 
man — and that man an Englishman— than upon her 
country’s salvation. I would not even suffer so dishonour- 
ing a thought to creep into my brain. Yet I will remember 
that you are a girl — a woman — that is to say, a creature of 
strange moods ; and I remind you that the marriage of a 
queen entails only the giving of a hand, her heart remains 
always at her disposal, and never yet has a queen of 
France been without her lover ! ” 

She looked up at him with burning cheeks. 

“ You have spoken bitterly to me,” she said, “ but from 
your point of view I have deserved it. Perhaps I have 
been weak ; after all, men are not so very different. They 
are all ignoble. You are right when you call us women 
creatures of moods. To-day I should prefer the convent 
to marriage with any man. But listen ! If you can 
persuade me that my marriage with Henri is necessary for 
his acceptance by the people of France, if I am assured of 
that, I will yield.” 

Mr. Sabin drew a long breath of relief, Blanche had 
succeeded, then. Even in that moment he found time to 
realise that, without her aid, he would have run a terrible 


292 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


risk of failure. He sat down and spoke calmly, but im- 
pressively. 

“ From my point of view,” he said, “ and I have con- 
sidered the subject exhaustively, I believe that it is 
absolutely necessary. You and Henri represent the two 
great Houses, who might, with almost equal right, claim the 
throne. The result of your union must be perfect unanimity. 
Now, suppose that Henri stands alone ; don’t you see that 
your cousin, Louis of Bourbon, is almost as near in the 
direct line ? He is young and impetuous, without ballast, 
but I believe ambitious. He would be almost sure to 
assert himself. At any rate, his very existence would cer- 
tainly lead to factions, and the splitting up of nobles into 
parties. This is the greatest evil we could possibly have to 
face. There must be no dissensions whatever during the 
first generation of the re-established monarchy. The 
country would not be strong enough to bear it. With you 
married to Henri, the two great Houses of Bourbon and 
Ortrens are allied. Against their representative there would 
be no one strong enough to lift a hand. Have I made it 
clear ? ” 

“ Yes,” the girl answered, “ you have made it very clear. 
Will you let me consider for a few moments ? ” 

She sat there with her back half-turned to him, gazing 
into the fire. He moved back in the chair and went on 
with his writing. She heard the lightning rush of his pen, 
as he covered sheet after sheet of paper without even 
glancing towards her; he had no more to say, he knew 
very well that his work was done. The influence of his 
words were strong upon her ; in her heart they had 
awakened some echo of those old ambitions which had 
once been very real and live things. She set herself the 
task of fanning them once more with the fire of enthusiasm. 
For she had no longer any doubts as to her duty. 
Wolfenden’s words — the first spoken words of love which 


THE MODERN RICHELIEU 


293 


had ever been addressed to her — had carried with them at 
the time a peculiar and a very sweet conviction. She had 
lost faith, too, in Mr. Sabin and his methods. She had 
begun to wonder whether he was not after all a visionary, 
whether there was really the faintest chance of the people 
of her country ever being stirred into a return to their old 
faith and allegiance. Wolfenden’s appearance had been 
for him singularly opportune, and she had almost decided 
a few mornings ago, that, after all, there was not any real 
bar between them. She was a princess, but of a fallen 
House ; he was a nobleman of the most powerful country in 
the world. She had permitted herself to care for him a 
little ; she was astonished to find how swiftly that sensation 
had grown into something which had promised to become 
very real and precious to her — and then, this insolent girl 
had come to her — her photograph was in his locket. He 
was like Henri, and all the others ! She despised herself 
for the heartache of which she was sadly conscious. Her 
cheeks burned with shame, and her heart was hot with rage, 
when she thought of the kiss she had given him — perhaps 
he had even placed her upon a level with the typewriting 
girl, had dared to consider her, too, as a possible plaything 
for his idle moments. She set her teeth, and her eyes 
flashed. 

Mr. Sabin, as his pen flew over the paper, felt a touch 
upon his arm. 

“ I am quite convinced,” she said. “ When the time 
comes I shall be ready.” 

He looked up with a faint, but gratified smile. 

“ I had no fear of you,” he said. “ Frankly, in Henri 
alone I should have been destitute of confidence. I should 
not have laboured as I have done, but for you ! In your 
hands, largely, the destinies of your country will remain.” 

“ I shall do my duty,” she answered quietly. 

“ I always knew it ! And now,” he said, looking back 


294 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


towards his papers, “how about the present? I do not 
want you here. Your presence would certainly excite 
comment, and I am virtually in hiding for the next twentyr 
four hours.” 

“ The Duchess of Montegarde arrived in London yester- 
day,” she replied. “ I am going to her.” 

“ You could not do a wiser thing,” he declared. “ Send 
your address to Avon House ; to-morrow night or Saturday 
night I shall come for you. All will be settled then ; we 
shall have plenty to do, but after the labour of the last 
seven years it will not seem like work. It will be the 
beginning of the harvest.” 

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“ And your reward,” she said, “ what is that to be ? ” 

He smiled. 

“ I will not pretend,” he answered, “ that I have worked 
for the love of my country and my order alone. I also am 
ambitious, although my ambition is more patriotic than 
personal. I mean to be first Minister of France ! ” 

“ You will deserve it,” she said. “ You are a very 
wonderful man.” 

She walked out into the street, and entered the cab 
which she had ordered to wait for her. 

“ Fourteen, Grosvenor Square,” she told the man, “ but 
call at the first telegraph office.” 

He set her down in a few minutes. She entered a small 
post-office and stood for a moment before one of the coiii- 
partments. Then she drew a form towards her, and wrote 
out a telegram — 


“To Lord Wolfenden, 

“ Deringham Hall, 

“ Norfolk. 

“I cannot send for you as I promised. Farewell— 
Helene.” 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


FOR A GREAT STAKE 

•* GERMANY’S INSULT TO ENGLAND! 

ENGLAND’S REPLY. 

Mobilisation Imminent. 

Arming of the Fleet. 

War almost Certain!” 

Wolfenden, who had bought no paper on his way up 
from Norfolk, gazed with something approaching amaze- 
ment at the huge placards everywhere displayed along the 
Strand, thrust into his cab by adventurous newsboys, flaunt- 
ing upon every lamp-post. He alighted near Trafalgar 
Square, and purchased a Globe. The actual facts were 
meagre enough, but significant when considered in the 
light of a few days ago. A vacancy had occurred upon 
the throne of one of England’s far off dependencies. The 
British nominee had been insulted in his palace by the 
German consul — a rival, denounced as rebel by the 
authorities, had been carried off in safety on to a German 
gunboat, and accorded royal honours. The thing was 
trivial as it stood, but its importance had been enhanced a 
thousandfold by later news. The German Emperor had 
sent a telegram, approving his consul’s action and forbid- 

999 


296 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


ding him to recognise the new sovereign. There was no 
possibility of misinterpreting such an action ; it was an 
overt and deliberate insult, the second within a week. 
Wolfenden read the news upon the pavements of Pall 
Mall, jostled from right to left by hurrying passers by, 
conscious too, all the while, of that subtle sense of excite- 
ment which was in the air and was visibly reflected in the 
faces of the crowd. He turned into his club, and here he 
found even a deeper note of the prevailing fever. Men 
were gathered around the tape in little clusters, listening 
to the click click of the instrument, and reading aloud the 
little items of news as they appeared. There was a burst of 
applause when the Prime Minister’s dignified and peremp 
tory demand for an explanation eked out about four o’clock 
in the afternoon — an hour later it was rumoured that the 
German Ambassador had received his papers. The Stock 
Exchange remained firm — there was enthusiasm, but no 
panic. Wolfenden began to wish that he, too, were a 
soldier, as he passed from one to another of the eager 
groups of young men about his own age, eagerly discussing 
the chances of the coming campaign. He walked out into 
the streets presently, and made his way boldly down to the 
house which had been pointed out to him as the town 
abode of Mr. Sabin and his niece. He found it shut up 
and apparently empty. The servant, who after some time 
answered his numerous ringings, was, either from design or 
chance, more than usually stupid. He could not tell where 
Mr. Sabin was or when he would return — he seemed to 
have no information whatever as regards, the young lady. 
Wolfenden turned away in despair and walked slowly back 
towards Pall Mall. At the bottom of Piccadilly he stopped 
for a moment to let a little stream of carriages pass by ; he 
was about to cross the road when a large barouche, with 
a pair of restive horses, again blocked the way. Attracted 
by an unknown coronet upon the panel, and the quiet 


FOR A GREAT STAKE 


297 


magnificence of the servants’ liveries, he glanced curiously 
at the occupants as the carriage passed him. It was one 
of the surprises of his life. The woman nearest to him he 
knew well by sight ; she was the Duchess de Montegarde, 
one of the richest and most famous of Frenchwomen — a 
woman often quoted as exactly typical of the old French 
nobility, and who had furthermore gained for herself a 
personal reputation for delicate and aristocratic exclusive- 
ness, not altogether shared by her compeers in English 
society. By her side — in the seat of honour — was Helene, 
and opposite to them was a young man with a dark, fiercely 
twisted moustache and distinctly foreign appearance. They 
passed slowly, and Wolfenden remained upon the edge of 
the pavement with his eyes fixed upon them. 

He was conscious at once of something about her which 
seemed strange to him — some new development. She 
leaned back in her seat, barely pretending to listen to the 
young man’s conversation, her lips a little curled, her own 
face the very prototype of aristocratic languor ! All the 
lines of race were in her delicately chiselled features ; the 
mere idea of regarding her as the niece of the unknown 
Mr. Sabin seemed just then almost ridiculous. The car- 
riage went by without her seeing him — she appeared to 
have no interest whatever in the passers-by. But Wolfenden 
remained there without moving until a touch on the arm 
recalled him to himself. 

He turned abruptly round, and to his amazement found 
himself shaking hands vigorously with Densham ! 

“ Where on earth did you spring from, old chap ? ” he 
asked. “ Dick said that you had gone abroad.” 

Densham smiled a little sadly. 

“ I was on my way,” he said, “ when I heard the war 
rumours. There seemed to be something in it, so I came 
back as fast as express trains and steamers would bring 
me. I only landed in England this morning. I am 


298 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


applying for the post of correspondent to the London 
News.” 

Wolfenden sighed. 

“ I would give the world,” he said, “ for some such ex- 
citement as that ! ” 

Densham drew his hand through Wolfenden’s arm. 

** I saw whom you were watching just now,” he said. 
“ She is as beautiful as ever ! ” 

Wolfenden turned suddenly round. 

“ Densham,” he said, “ you know who she is — tell me.” 

“ Do you mean to say that you have not found out ? ” 

“ I do ! I know her better, but still only as Mr. Sabin’s 
niece I ” 

Densham was silent for several moments. He felt 
Wolfenden’s fingers gripping his arm nervously. 

“ Well, I do not see that I should be betraying any con- 
fidence now,” he said. “ The promise I gave was only 
binding for a short time, and now that she is to be seen 
openly with the Duchess de Montegarde, I suppose the 
embargo is removed. The young lady is the Princess 
Helene Frances de Bourbon, and the young man is her 
betrothed husband, the Prince of Ortrens ! ” 

Piccadilly became suddenly a vague and shadowy 
thoroughfare to Wolfenden. He was not quite sure 
whether his footsteps even reached the pavement. Dens- 
ham hastened him into the club and, installing him into 
an easy chair, called for brandies and soda. 

“ Poor old Wolf ! ” he said softly. “ I’m afraid you’re 
like I was — very hard hit. Here, drink this ! I’m beastly 
sorry I told you, but I certainly thought that you would 
have had some idea.” 

“ I have been a thick-headed idiot ! ” Wolfenden ex- 
claimed. “ There have been heaps of things from which 
I might have guessed something near the truth, at any rate* 
What a fool she riiust have thought mo 1 ” 


FOR A GREAT STARE 


299 


The two men were silent. Outside in the street there 
was a rush for a special edition, and a half cheer rang in 
the room. A waiter entered with a handful of copies which 
were instantly seized upbn. Wolfenden secured one and 
read the headings. 

“ MOBILIZATION DECLARED. 

All Leave Cancelled. 

Cabinet Council Still Sitting.” 

“Densham, do you realise that we are really in for 
war?” 

Densham nodded. 

“ I don’t think there can be any doubt about it myself. 
What a thunderbolt ! By the bye, where is your friend, 
Mr. Sabin?” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ I do not know ; I came to London partially to see 
him. I have an account to settle when we do meet ; at 
present he has disappeared. Densham ! ” 

“Well!” 

‘If Miss Sabin has become the Princess Helene of 
Bourbon, who is Mr. Sabin ? ” 

“ I am not sure,” Densham answered, “ I have been 
looking into the genealogy of the family, and if he is really 
her uncle, there is only one man whom he can be — the 
Duke de Souspennier ! ” 

“ Souspennier ! ” Wasn’t he banished from France for 
something or other — intriguing for the restoration of the 
Monarchy, I think it was ? ” 

Densham nodded. 

“ Yes, he disappeared at the time of the Commune, and 
since then he is supposed to have been in Asia somewhere. 
He has quite a history, I believe, and at different times has 


300 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


been involved in several European complications. I 
shouldn’t be at all surprised if he isn’t our man. Mr. 
Sabin has rather the look of a man who has travelled in 
the East, and he is certainly an aristocrat.” 

Wolfenden was suddenly thoughtful. 

“ Harcutt would be very much interested in this,” he 
declared. “ What’s up outside ? ” 

There had been a crash in the street, and the sound of a 
horse plunging ; the two men walked to the windows. The 
debris of a hansom was lying in the road, with one wheel 
hopelessly smashed, a few yards off. A man, covered with 
mud, rose slowly up from the wreck. Densham and 
Wolfenden simultaneously recognised him. 

“ It is Felix,” Wolfenden exclaimed. “ Come on ! ” 

They both hurried out into the street. The driver of the 
hansom, who also was covered with mud, stood talking to 
Felix while staunching the blood from a wound in his 
forehead. 

“I’m very sorry, sir,” he was saying, “ I hope you’ll 
remember as it was your orders to risk an accident, sooner 
than lose sight of t’other gent. Mine’s a good ’oss, but 
what is he against a pair and a light brougham ? 
and Piccadilly ain’t the place for a chase of this sort ! It’ll 
cost me three pun ten, sir, to say nothing of the wheel ” 

Felix motioned him impatiently to be silent, and thrust 
a note into his hand. 

“If the damage comes to more than that,” he said, “ask 
for me at the Russian Embassy, and I will pay it. Here is 
my card.” 

Felix was preparing to enter another cab, but Wolfenden 
laid his hand upon his shoulder. 

“ Won’t you come into my club here, and have a wash ? ” 
he suggested. “ I am afraid that you have cut your cheek.” 

Felix raised his handkerchief to his face, and found it 
covered with blood. 


FOR A GREAT STAKE 


301 


“ Thank you, Lord Wolfenden,” he said, “ I should be 
glad to ; you seem destined always to play the part of the 
Good Samaritan to me ! ” 

They both went with him into the lavatory, 

“Do you know,” he asked Wolfenden, when he had 
sponged his face, “ whom I was following ? ” 

Wolfenden shook his head. 

“ Mr. Sabin ? ” he suggested. 

“ Not Mr. Sabin himself,” Felix answered, “ but almost 
the same thing. It was Foo Cha, his Chinese servant who 
has just arrived in England. Have you any idea where 
Mr. Sabin is ? ” 

They both shook their heads. 

“I do not know,” Wolfenden said, “but I am very 
anxious to find out. I have an account to settle with him !” 

“ And I,” Felix murmured in a low tone, “ have a very 
much longer one against him. To-night, if I am not too 
late, there will be a balance struck between us ! I have 
lost Foo Cha, but others, better skilled than I am, are in 
search of his master. They will succeed, too ! They 
always succeed. What have you against him. Lord 
Wolfenden?” 

Wolfenden hesitated ; yet why not tell the man the truth ? 
He had nothing to gain by concealment. 

“He forced himself into my father’s house in Norfolk 
and obtained, either by force or craft, some valuable papers. 
My father was in delicate health, and we fear that the shock 
will cost him his reason.” 

“ Do you want to know what they were ? ” Felix said. 
“ I can tell you ! Do you want to know what he required 
them for ? I can tell you that too ! He has concocted a 
marvellous scheme, and if he is left to himself for another 
hour or two, he will succeed. But I have no fear ; I have 
set working a mightier machinery than even he can grapple 
with 1 ” 


302 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


They had walked together into the smoke-room j Felix 
seemed somewhat shaken and was glad to rest for a few 
minutes. 

“ Has he outstepped the law, been guilty of any crime ? ” 
Wolfenden asked ; “ he is daring enough ! ” 

Felix laughed shortly. He was lighting a cigarette, but 
his hand trembled so that he could scarcely hold the 
match. 

“ A further reaching arm than the law,” he said, dropping 
his voice, “ more powerful than governments. Even by 
this time his whereabouts is known. If we are only in time ; 
that is the only fear.” 

“ Cannot you tell us,” Wolfenden asked, “ something of 
this wonderful scheme of his — why was he so anxious to 
get those papers and drawings from my father — to what 
purpose can he possibly put them ?” 

Felix hesitated. 

“ Well,” he said, “ why not ? You have a right to know. 
Understand that I myself have only the barest outline of it ; 
I will tell you this, however. Mr. Sabin is the Due de 
Souspennier, a Frenchman of fabulous wealth, who has 
played many strange parts in European history. Amongst 
other of his accomplishments, he is a mechanical and 
strategical genius. He has studied under Addison in 
America, one subject only, for three years — the destruction 
of warships and fortifications by electrical contrivances un- 
known to the general world. Then he came to England, 
and collected a vast amount of information concerning your 
navy and coast defences in many different ways — finally he 
sent a girl to play the part of typist to your father, whom 
he knew to be the greatest living authority upon all naval 
matters connected with your country. Every line he wrote 
was copied and sent to Mr. Sabin, until by some means 
your father’s suspicions were aroused, and the girl was 
dismissed. The last portion of your father’s work con- 


FOR A GREAT STAKE 


303 


sisted of a set of drawings, of no fewer than twenty-seven 
of England’s finest vessels, every one of which has a large 
proportion of defective armour plating, which would render 
the vessels utterly useless in case of war. These drawings 
show the exact position of the defective plates, and it was 
to secure these illustrations that Mr. Sabin paid that daring 
visit to your father on Tuesday morning. Now, what he 
professes broadly is that he has elaborated a scheme, by 
means of which, combined with the aid of his inventions, 
a few torpedo boats can silence every fort in the Thames, 
and leave London at the mercy of any invaders. At the 
same time his plans include the absolutely safe landing of 
troops on the east and south coast, at certain selected spots. 
This scheme, together with some very alarming secret 
information affecting the great majority of your battleships, 
will, he asserts with absolute confidence, place your country 
at the mercy of any Power to whom he chooses to sell it. 
He offered it to Russia first, ,and then to Germany. Ger- 
many has accepted his terms and will declare war upon 
England the moment she has his whole scheme and inven- 
tions in her possession.” 

Wolfenden and Densham looked at one another, partly 
incredulous, partly aghast. It was like a page from the 
Arabian Nights. Surely such a thing as this was not 
possible. Yet even that short silence was broken by the 
cry of the newsboys out in the street — 

“GERMANY ARMING! 

REPORTED DECLARATION OF WAR!’* 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 

Mr. Sabin leaned back in his chair with a long, deep sigh 
of content. The labour of years was concluded at last. 
With that final little sketch his work was done. A pile of 
manuscripts and charts lay before him ; everything was in 
order. He took a bill of lading from his letter-case, and 
pinned it carefully to the rest. Then he glanced at his 
watch, and, taking a cigarette-case from his pocket, began 
to smoke. 

There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Sabin, who 
had recognised the approaching footsteps, glanced up care- 
lessly. 

“ What is it, Foo Cha ? I told you that I would ring 
when I wanted you.” 

The Chinaman glided to his side. 

“ Master,” he said softly, “ I have fears. There is some- 
thing not good in the air.” 

Mr. Sabin turned sharply around. 

“ What do you mean ? ” he asked. 

Foo Cha was apologetic but serious. 

“ Master, I was followed from the house of the German 
by a man, who drove fast after me in a two-wheeled cab. 
He lost me on the way, but there are others. I have been 
into the street, and I am sure of it. The Louse is being 
watched on all sides.” 


304 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 


305 


Mr. Sabin drew a quiet, little breath. For a moment his 
haggard face seemed almost ghastly. He recovered himself, 
however, with an effort. 

“We are not in China, Foo Cha,” he said. “I have done 
nothing against the law of this country ; no man can enter 
here if we resist. If we are really being watched, it must 
be by persons in the pay of the Russian. But they can do 
nothing ; it is too late ; Knigenstein will be here in half 
an hour. The thing will be settled then, once and for 
^ver.” 

Foo Cha was troubled still. 

“Me afraid,” he admitted frankly. “Strange men this 
end and tnat end of street. Me no like it. Ah ! ” 

The front door bell rang softly ; it was a timid, hesitating 
ring, as though some one had but feebly touched the knob. 
Foo Cha and his master looked at one another in silence. 
There was something almost ominous in that gentle peal. 

“ You must see who it is, Foo Cha,” Mr. Sabin said. 
“ It may be Knigenstein come early ; if so, show him in at 
once. To everybody else the house is empty.” 

Foo Cha bowed silently and withdrew. He struck a 
match in the dark passage, and lit the hanging gas-lamp. 
Then he opened the door cautiously. 

One man alone was standing there. Foo Cha looked at 
him in despair ; it was certainly not Knigenstein, nor was 
there any sign of his carriage in the street. The stranger 
was a man of middle height, squarely built and stout. He 
wore a long black overcoat, and he stood with his hands in 
his pockets. 

“ What you want ? ” Foo Cha asked. “ What you want 
with me ? ” 

The man did not answer at once, but he stepped inside 
into the passage. Foo Cha tried to shut the door in his 
face, but it was like pushing against a mountain. 

“ Where is your master ? ” he asked. 

20 


3o6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


“ Master ? He not here,” Foo Cha answered, with glib 
and untruthful earnestness. “ Indeed he is not here — quite 
true. He come to-morrow; I preparing house for him. 
What do you want? Go away, or me call policeman.” 

The intruder smiled indulgently into the Chinaman’s 
earnest, upturned face. 

“ Foo Cha,” he said, “ that is enough. Take this card to 
your master, Mr. Sabin.” 

Foo Cha was ready to begin another torrent of expostu- 
lations, but in the gaslight he met the new-comer’s steadfast 
gaze, and he was silent. The stranger was dressed in the 
garb of a superior working man, but his speech and manner 
indicated a very different station. Foo Cha took the card 
and left him in the passage. He made his way softly into 
the sitting-room, and as he entered he turned the key in the 
lock behind him; there, at any rate, was a moment or two of 
respite. 

“Master,” he said, “there is a man there whom we cannot 
stop. When me tell him you no here, he laugh at me. He 
will see you ; he no go way. He laugh again when I try 
shut the door. He give me card ; I no understand what 
on it.” 

Mr. Sabin stretched out his hand and took the card from 
the Chinaman’s fingers. There seemed to be one or two 
words upon it, traced in a delicate, sloping handwriting. 
Mr. Sabin had snatched at the little piece of pasteboard 
with some impatience, but the moment he had read those 
few words a remarkable change came over him. He started 
as though he had received an electric shock ; the pupils of 
^his eyes seemed hideously dilated ; the usual pallor of his 
face was merged in a ghastly whiteness. And then, after 
the first shock, came a look of deep and utter despair ; his 
hand fell to his side, a half-muttered imprecation escaped 
from his trembling lips, yet he laid the card gently, even 
with reverence, upon the desk before him. 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 


307 


“ You can show him in, Foo Cha,” he directed, in a low 
tone ; “ show him in at once.” 

Foo Cha glided out disappointed. Something had gone 
terribly wrong, he was sure of that. He went slowly down- 
stairs, his eyes fixed upon the dark figure standing motion- 
less in the dimly-lit hall. He drew a sharp breath, which 
sounded through his yellow, protuberant teeth like a hiss. 
A single stroke of that long knife — it would be so easy. 
Then he remembered the respect with which Mr. Sabin 
had treated that card, and he sighed. Perhaps it would be 
a mistake ; it might make evil worse. He beckoned to the 
stranger, and conducted him upstairs. 

Mr. Sabin received his visitor standing. He was still 
very pale, but his face had resumed its wonted impassive- 
ness. In the dim lamp-lit room he could see very little of 
his visitor, only a thick-set man with dark eyes and a closely- 
cropped black beard. He was roughly dressed, yet held 
himself well. The two men eyed one another steadily for 
several moments, before any speech passed between them. 

“You are surprised,” the stranger said ; “I do not wonder 
at it. Perhaps — you have been much engrossed, it is said — 
you had even forgotten.” 

Mr. Sabin’s lips curled in a bitter smile. 

“One does not forget those things,” he said. “To 
business. Let me know what is required of me.” 

“ It has been reported,” the stranger said, “that you have 
conceived and brought to great perfection a comprehensive 
and infallible scheme for the conquest of this country. 
Further, that you are on the point of handing it over to the 
Emperor of Germany, for the use of that country. I think 
I may conclude that the report is correct ? ” he added, with 
a glance at the table. “We are not often misinformed.” 

“ The report,” Mr. Sabin assented, “ is perfectly correct.’ 

“ We have taken counsel upon the matter,” the stranger 
continued, “and 1 am here to acquaint you with our decision, 


3o8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


The papers are to be burnt, and the appliances to be de- 
stroyed forthwith. No portion of them is to be shown 
to the German Government or any person representing that 
country, nor to any other Power. Further, you are to 
leave England within two months.” 

Mr. Sabin stood quite still, his hands resting lightly upon 
the desk in front of him. His eyes, fixed on vacancy, were 
looking far out of that shabby little room, back along the 
avenues of time, thronged with the fragments of his broken 
dreams. He realised once more the full glory of his daring 
and ambitious scheme. He saw his country revelling again 
in her old splendour, stretching out her limbs and taking 
once more the foremost place among her sister nations. 
He saw the pageantry and rich colouring of Imperialism, 
firing the imagination of her children, drawing all hearts 
back to their allegiance, breaking through the hard crust of 
materialism which had spread like an evil dream through 
the land. H^ saw himself great and revered, the patriot, 
the Richelieu of his days, the adored of the people, the 
friend and restorer of his king. Once more he was a figure 
in European history, the consort of Emperors, the man 
whose slightest word could shake the money markets of the 
world. He saw all these things, as though for the last time, 
with strange, unreal vividness ;• once more their full glory 
warmed his blood and dazzled his eyes. Then a flash of 
memory, an effort of realisation chilled him ; his feet were 
upon the earth again, his head was heavy. That thick-set, 
motionless figure before him seemed like the incarnation of 
his despair. 

“I shall appeal,” he said hoarsely ; “ England is no friend 
of ours.” 

The man shrugged his shoulders. 

“England is tolerant at least,” he said; “and she hag 
sheltered us.” 

“ I shall appeal,” Mr. Sabin repeated. 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 


309 


The man shook his head. 

“ It is the order of the High Council,” he said ; “there is 
no appeal.” 

“ It is my life’s work,” Mr. Sabin faltered. 

“ Your life’s work,” the man said slowly, “ should be with 
us.” 

“ God knows why I ever ” 

The man stretched out a white hand, which gleamed 
through the semi-darkness. Mr. Sabin stopped short. 

“You very nearly,” he said solemnly, “ pronounced your 
own death-sentence. If you had finished what you were 
about to say, I could never have saved you. Be wise, 
friend. This is a disappointment to you ; well, is not our 
life one long torturing disappointment ? What of us, 
indeed? We are like the waves which beat ceaselessly 
against the sea-shore, what we gain one day we lose the 
next. It is fate, it is life ! Once more, friend, remember ! 
Farewell ! ” 

V 

♦ ♦ ♦ * ♦ 

Mr. Sabin was left alone, a martyr to his thoughts. 
Already it was past the hour for Knigenstein’s visit. Should 
he remain and brave the storm, or should he catch the boat- 
train from Charing Cross and hasten to hide himself in 
one of the most remote quarters of the civilised world ? 
In any case it was a dreary outlook for him. Not only had 
this dearly cherished scheme of his come crashing about 
his head, but he had very seriously compromised himself 
with a great country. The Emperor’s gracious letter was in 
his pocket — he smiled grimly to himself as he thought for 
a moment of the consternation of Berlin, and of Knigen- 
stein’s disgrace. And then the luxury of choice was 
suddenly denied him ; he was brought back to the present, 
and a sense of its paramount embarrassments by a pealing 
ring at the bell, and the trampling of horse’s feet in the 


310 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


street. He had no time to rescind his previous instructions 
to Foo Cha before Knigenstein himself, wrapped in a great 
sealskin coat, and muffled up to the chin with a silk hand- 
kerchief, was shown into the room. 

The Ambassador’s usually phlegmatic face bore traces of 
some anxiety. Behind his spectacles his eyes glittered 
nervously; he grasped Mr. Sabin’s hand with unwonted 
cordiality, and was evidently much relieved to have found 
him. 

“ My dear Souspennier,” he said, “ this is a great occa- 
sion. I am a little late, but, as you can imagine, I am 
overwhelmed with work of the utmost importance. You 
have finished now, I hope. You are ready for me ? ” 

“ I am as ready for you,” Mr. Sabin said grimly, “ as I 
ever shall be ! ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” Knigenstein asked sharply. 
“ Don’t tell me that anything has gone amiss ! I am a 
ruined man, unless you carry out your covenant to the 
letter. 1 have pledged my word upon your honour.” 

“ Then I am afraid,” Mr. Sabin said, “ that we are both 
of us in a very tight place ! I am bound hand and foot. 
There,” he cried, pointing to the grate, half choked with a 
pile of quivering grey ashes, “ lies the work of seven years 
of my life — seven years of intrigue, of calculation, of un- 
ceasing toil. By this time all my American inventions, 
which would have paralysed Europe, are blown sky high ! 
That is the position, Knigenstein ; we are undone ! ” 

Knigenstein was shaking like a child ; he laid his hand 
upon Mr. Sabin’s arm, and gripped it fiercely. 

“ Souspennier,” he said, “ if you are speaking the truth 
I am ruined, and disgraced for ever. The Emperor will 
never forgive me ! I shall be dismissed and banished. I 
have pledged my word for yours; you cannot mean to play 
me false like this. If there is any personal favour or 
reward, which the Emperor can grant, it is yours — I will 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 


3 « 


answer for it. I will answer for it, too, that war shall be 
declared against France within six months of the conclu- 
sion of peace with England. Come, say that you have 
been jesting. Good God ! man, you are torturing me. 
Why, have you seen the papers to-night ? The Emperor 
has been hasty, I own, but he has already struck the first 
blow. War is as good as declared. I am waiting for my 
papers every hour ! ” 

“I cannot help it,” Mr. Sabin said doggedly. “The 
thing is at an end. To give up all the fruits of my work — 
the labour of the best years of my life — is as bitter to me 
as your dilemma is to you ! But it is inevitable ! Be a 
man, Knigenstein, put the best face on it you can.” 

The utter impotence of all that he could say was sud- 
denly revealed to Knigenstein in Mr. Sabin’s set face and 
hopeless words. His tone of entreaty changed to one of 
anger ; the veins on his forehead stood out like knotted 
string, his mouth twitched as he spoke, he could not con- 
trol himself. 

“ You have made up your mind,” he cried. “Very well! 
Russia has bought you, very well ! If Lobenski has bribed 
you with all the gold in Christendom you shall never enjoy 
it ! You shall not live a year 1 I swear it 1 You have 
insulted and wronged our country, our fatherland 1 Listen I 
A word shall be breathed in the ears of a handful of our 
officers. Where you go, they shall go ; if you leave 
England you will be struck on the cheek in the first public 
place at which you show yourself. If one falls, there are 
others — hundreds, thousands, an army ! Oh I you shall 
not escape, my friend. But if ever you dared to set foot 
in Germany ” 

“ I can assure you,” Mr. Sabin interrupted, '* that I shall 
take particular care never to visit your delightful country. 
Elsewhere, I think I can take care of myself. But listen, 
Knigenstein, all yonr talk about Kussia and playing you 


312 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


false is absurd. If I had wished to deal with Lobenski, I 
could have done so, instead of with you. I have not even 
seen him. A greater hand than his has stopped me, a 
greater even than the hand of your Emperor ! ” 

Knigenstein looked at him as one looks at a madman. 

‘‘There is no greater hand on earth,” he said, “than 
the hand of his Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Ger- 
many.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled. 

“ You are a German,” he said, “ and you know little of 
these things, yet you call yourself a diplomatist, and I sup- 
pose you have some knowledge of what this means.” 

He lifted the lamp from the table and walked to the wall 
opposite to the door. Knigenstein followed him closely. 
Before them, high up as the fingers of a man could reach, 
was a small, irregular red patch — something between a 
cross and a star. Mr. Sabin held the lamp high over his 
head and pointed to the mark. 

“ Do you know what that means ? ” he asked. 

The man by his side groaned. 

“Yes,” he answered, with a gesture of abject despair, 

“ I know I ” 

Mr. Sabin walked back to the table and set down the . 
lamp. 

“ You know now,” he said coolly, “ who has intervened.” 

“ If I had had any idea,” Knigenstein said, “ that you 
were one of them I should not have treated with you.” 

“ It was many years ago,” Mr. Sabin said with a sigh. 

“ My father was half a Russian, you know. It served my 
purpose whilst I was envoy at Teheran ; since then I had 
lost sight of them ; I thought that they too had lost sight 
of me. I was mistaken — only an hour ago I was visited 
by a chief official. They knew everything, they forbade 
everything. As a matter of fact they have save^ Eng- 
landl” 


THE MEN WHO SAVED ENGLAND 


313 


“ And ruined us,” Knigenstein groaned. “ I must go 
and telegraph. But Souspennier, one word.” 

Mr. Sabin looked up. 

“You are a brave man and a patriot; you want to see 
your country free. Well, why not free it still ? You and I 
are philosophers, we know that life after all is an uncertain 
thing. Hold to your bargain with us. It will be to your 
death, I do not deny that. But I will pledge the honour 
of my country, I will give you the holy word of the 
Emperor, that we will faithfully carry out our part of the 
contract, and the whole glory shall be yours. You will be 
immortalised ; you will win fame that shall be deathless. 
Your name will be enshrined in the heart of your country’s 
history.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly. 

“ My dear Knigenstein,” he said “ pray don’t misunder- 
stand me. I do not cast the slightest reflection upon your 
Emperor or your honour. But if ever there was a country 
which required watching, it is yours. I could not carry 
your pledges with me into oblivion, and there is no one to 
whom I could leave the legacy. That being the case, I 
think that I prefer to live.” 

. Knigenstein buttoned up his coat and sighed. 

• “ I am a ruined man, Souspennier,” he said, “ but I bear 
you no malice. Let me leave you a little word of warning, 
though. The Nihilists are not the only people in the 
world who have the courag ; and the wit to avenge them- 
selves. Farewell ! ” 

Mr. Sabin broke into a queer little laugh as he listened 
to his guest’s departing footsteps. Then he lit a cigarette, 
and called to Foo Cha for some coffee. 


CHAPTER XXXIX 


THE HEART OF THE PRINCESS 

When Wolfenden opened his paper on Saturday morning, 
London had already drawn a great breath, partly of relief 
partly of surprise, for the black head-lines which topped 
the columns of the papers, the placards in the streets, and 
the cry of the newsboys, all declared a most remarkable 
change in the political situation. 

“THE GERMAN EMPEROR EXPLAINS I 
THERE WILL BE NO WAR 1 
German Consul ordered Home! 

No Rupture 1 ” 

Wolfenden, in common with most of his fellow-countrymen, 
could scarcely believe his eyes ; yet there it was in plain 
black and white. The dogs of war had been called back. 
Germany was climbing down — not with dignity ; she had 
gone too far for that — but with a scuffle. Wolfenden read 
the paper through before he even thought of his letters 
Then he began to open them slowly. The first was from 
his mother. The Admiral was distinctly better; the 
doctors were more hopeful. He turned to the next one; 
i; was m a delicate, foreign handwriting, and eJthaled a 
5 ^ 


THE HEART OF THE PRINCESS 


315 

faint perfume which seemed vaguely familiar to him. He 
opened it and his heart stood still. 

“ 14, Grosvenor Square, 

“London, W 

** Will you come and see me to-day about four o’clock ? 
— Helene.” 

He looked at his watch — four o’clock seemed a very long 
way off. He decided that he would go out and find Felix ; 
but almost immediately the door was opened and that very 
person was shown in. 

Felix was radiant; he appeared to have grown years 
younger. He was immaculately dressed, and he wore an 
exquisite orchid in his button-hole. 

Wolfenden greeted him warmly. 

“Have you seen the paper?” he asked. “Do you 
know the news ? ” 

Felix laughed. 

“ Of course ! You may not believe it, but it is true that 
I am the person who has saved your country ! And I am 
quits at last with Herbert de la Meux, Due de Souspen- 
nier ! ” 

“ Meaning, I suppose, the person whom we have been 
accustomed to call — Mr. Sabin?” Wolfenden remarked. 

“ Exactly!” 

Wolfenden pushed an easy chair towards his visitor and 
produced some cigarettes. 

“ I must say,” he continued, “ that I should exceedingly 
like to know how the thing was done.” 

Felix smiled. 

“ That, my dear friend,” he said, “ you will never know. 
No one will ever know the cause of Germany’s suddenly 
belligerent attitude, and her equally speedy climb-down I 
There are many pages of diplomatic history which the 


3i6 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


world will never read, and this is one of them. Come and 
lunch with me, Lord Wolfenden. My vow is paid and 
without bloodshed. I am a free man, and my promotion 
is assured. To-day is the happiest of my life ! ” 

Wolfenden smiled and looked at the letter on the table 
before him ; might it not also be the happiest day of his 
own life ! 

* ♦ ♦ ♦ * 

And it was ! Punctually at four o’clock he presented him- 
self at Grosvenor Square and was ushered into one of the 
smaller reception rooms. Helene came to him at once, a 
smile half-shy, half-apologetic upon her lips. He was con- 
scious from the moment of her entrance of a change in her 
deportment towards him. She held in her hand a small 
locket. 

“ I wanted to ask you. Lord Wolfenden,” she said, draw- 
ing her fingers slowly away from his lingering clasp, “ does 
this locket belong to you ? ” 

He glanced at it and shook his head at once. 

“ I never saw it before in my life,” he declared. “ I do 
not wear a watch chain, and I don’t possess anything of 
that sort.” 

She threw it contemptuously away from her into the grate. 

“ A woman lied to me about it,” she said slowly. “ I am 
ashamed of myself that I should have listened to her, even 
for a second. I chanced to look at it last night, and it 
suddenly occurred to me where I had seen it. It was on a 
man’s watch-chain, but not on yours.” 

“ Surely,” he said, “ it belongs to Mr. Sabin ? ” 

She nodded and held out both her hands. 

“ Will you forgive me ? ” she begged softly, “ and — and 
— I think — I promised to send for you ! ” 

* * * * s|e 

They had been together for nearly an hour when the 
door opened abruptly, and the young man whom Wolfenden 


THE HEART OF THE PRINCESS 317 

had seen with Helene in the barouche entered the room. 
He stared in amazement at her, and rudely at Wolfenden. 
Helene rose and turned to him with a smile. 

“ Henri,” she said, “ let me present to you the English 
gentleman whom I am going to marry. Prince Henri of 
Ortrens — Lord Wolfenden.” 

The young man barely returned Wolfenden’s salute. 
He turned with flashing eyes to Hellne and muttered a 
few hasty words in French — 

“A kingdom and my betrothed in one day ! It is too 
much ! We will see ! ” 

He left the room hurriedly. Helene laughed. 

“He has gone to find the Duchess,” she said, “and 
there will be a scene ! Let us go out in the Park.” 

They walked about under the trees ; suddenly they came 
face to face with Mr. Sabin. He was looking a little worn, 
but he was as carefully dressed as usual, and he welcomed 
them with a smile and an utter absence of any embarrass- 
ment. 

“ So soon ! ” he remarked pleasantly. “ You Englishmen 
are as prompt in love as you are in war. Lord Wolfenden ! 
It is an admirable trait.” 

Plelene laid her hand upon his arm. Yes, it was no 
fancy; his hair was greyer, and heavy lines furrowed his 
brow. 

“ Uncle,” she said, “ believe me that I am sorry for you, 
though for myself — I am glad ! ” 

He looked at her kindly, yet with a faint contempt. 

“The Bourbon blood runs very slowly in your veins, 
child,” he said. “After all I begin to doubt whether you 
would have made a queen ! As for myself — well, I am 
resigned. I am going to Pau, to play golf!” 

“ For how long, I wonder,” she said smiling, “ will you 
be able to content yourself there?” 

“ For a month or two,” he answered ; “ until I have lost 


3i8 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


the taste of defeat. Then I have plans — but never mind ; 
I will tell you later on. You will all hear of me again ! 
So far as you two are concerned at any rate,” he added, “ I. 
have no need to reproach myself. My failure seems to 
have brought you happiness.” 

He passed on, and they both watched his slim figure lost 
in the throng of passers-by. 

“ He is a great man,” she murmured. “ He knows how 
to bear defeat.” 

“ He is a great man,” Wolfenden answered ; “ but none 
the less I am not sorry to see the last of Mr. Sabin I ” 


CHAPTER XL 


THE WAY TO PAU 

The way to Pau which Mr. Sabin chose may possibly have 
been the most circuitous, but it was certainly the safest. 
Although not a muscle of his face had moved, although he 
had not by any physical movement or speech betrayed his 
knowledge of the fact, he was perfectly well aware that his 
little statement as to his future movements was overheard 
and carefully noted by the tall, immaculately dressed young 
man who by some strange chance seemed to have been at 
his elbow since he had left his rooms an hour ago. “ Into 
the lion’s mouth, indeed,” he muttered to himself grimly as 
he hailed a hansom at the corner and was driven home- 
wards. The limes of Berlin were very beautiful, but it was 
not with any immediate idea of sauntering beneath them 
that a few hours later he was driven to Euston and stepped 
into an engaged carriage on the Liverpool express. There, 
with a travelling cap drawn down to his eyes and a rug 
pulled up to his throat, he sat in the far corner of his com- 
partment apparently enjoying an evening paper — as a matter 
of fact anxiously watching the platform. He had taken care 
to allow himself only a slender margin of time. In two 
minutes the train glided out of the station. 

He drew a little sigh of relief — he, who very seldom per- 
mitted himself the luxury of even the slightest revelation of 


320 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


his feelings. At least he had a start. Then he unlocked a 
travelling case, and, drawing out an atlas, sat with it upon 
his knee for some time. When he closed it there was a 
frown upon his face. 

“America,” he exclaimed softly to himself. “What a 
lack of imagination even the sound of the place seems to 
denote ! It is the most ignominious retreat I have ever 
made.” 

“ You made the common mistake,” a quiet voice at his 
elbow remarked, “ of many of the world’s greatest diplo- 
matists. You underrated your adversaries.” 

Mr. Sabin distinctly started, and clutching at his rug, 
leaned back in his corner. A young man in a tweed 
travelling suit was standing by the opposite window. Be- 
hind him Mr. Sabin noticed for the first time a narrow 
mahogany door. Mr. Sabin drew a short breath, and was 
himself again. Underneath the rug his fingers stole into 
his overcoat pocket and clasped something cold and firm. 

“ One at least,” he said grimly, “ I perceive that I have 
held too lightly. Will you pardon a novice at necro- 
mancy if he asks you how you found your way here ? ” 

Felix smiled. 

“ A little forethought,” he remarked, “ a little luck and a 
sovereign tip to an accommodating inspector. The carriage 
in which you are travelling is, as you will doubtless perceive 
before you reach your journey’s end, a species of saloon. 
This little door ” — touching the one through which he had 
issued — “ leads on to a lavatory, and on the other side is a 
non-smoking carriage. I found that you had engaged a 
carriage on this train, by posing as your servant. I selected 
this one as being particularly suited to an old gentleman 
of nervous disposition, and arranged also that the non- 
smoking portion should be reserved for me.” 

Mr. Sabin nodded. “And how,” he asked, “did you 
know that I meant to go to America?” 


THE WAY TO PAU 


321 


Felix shrugged his shoulders and took a seat. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I concluded that you would be looking 
for a change of air somewhere, and I really could not see 
what part of the world you had left open to yourself. 
America is the only country strong enough to keep you ! 
Besides, I reckoned a little upon that curiosity with regard 
to undeveloped countries which I have observed to be one 
of your traits. So far as I am aware, you have never 
resided long in America.” 

“ Neither have I even visited Kamtchatka or Greenland,” 
Mr, Sabin remarked. 

I understand you,** Felix remarked, nodding his 
head. “ America is certainly one of the last places one 
would have dreamed of looking for you. You will find it, 
I am afraid, politically unborn ; your own little methods, 
at any rate, would scarcely achieve popularity there. 
Further, its sympathies, of course, are with democratic 
France. I can imagine that you and the President of the 
United States would represent opposite poles of thought. 
Vet there were two considerations which weighed with 
me.** 

“ This is very interesting,” Mr. Sabin remarked. “ May 
I know what they were ? To be permitted a glimpse into 
the inward workings of a brain like yours is indeed a 
privilege ! ” 

Felix bowed with a gratified smile upon his lips. The 
satire of Mr. Sabin’s dry tone was apparently lost upon him. 

“ You are most perfectly welcome,” he declared. “ In 
the first place I said to myself that Kamtchatka and 
Greenland, although equally interesting to you, would be 
quite unable to afford themselves the luxury of offering 
you an asylum. You must seek the shelter of a great and 
powerful country, and one which you had never offended, 
and save America, there is none such in the world. 
Secondly, you are a Sybarite, and you do not without 

21 


322 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


very serious reasons place yourself outside the pale of 
civilisation. Thirdly, America is the only country save 
those which are barred to you where you could play 
golf!” 

“You are really a remarkable young man,” Sabin de- 
clared, softly stroking his little grey imperial. “You have 
read me like a book ! I am humiliated that the course of 
my reasoning should have been so transparent. To prove 
the correctness of your conclusions, see the little volume 
which I had brought to read on my way to Liverpool.” 

He handed it out to Felix. It was entitled, “The Golf 
Courses of the World,” and a leaf was turned down at the 
chapter headed, “ United States.” 

“ I wish,” he remarked, “ that you were a golfer ! I 
should like to have asked your opinion about that plan of 
the Myopia golf links. To me it seems cramped, and the 
bunkers are artificial.” 

Felix looked at him admiringly. 

“ You are a wonderful man,” he said. “ You do not bear 
me any ill-will then ? ” 

“ None in the least,” Mr. Sabin said quietly. “ I never 
bear personal grudges. So far as I am concerned, I never 
have a personal enemy. It is fate itself which vanquished 
me. You were simply an instrument. You do not figure 
in my thoughts as a person against whom I bear any ill- 
will. I am glad, though, that you did not cash my cheque 
for ;£‘ 2 o,ooo I ” 

Felix smiled. “ You went to see, then ? ” he asked. 

“ I took the liberty,” Mr. Sabin answered, “ of stopping 
payment of it.” 

“ It will never be presented,” Felix said. “ I tore it into 
pieces directly I left you.” 

Mr. Sabin nodded. 

“ Quixotic,” he murmured. 

The express was rushing on through the night. Mr. 


THE WAY TO PAU 


323 


Sabin thrust his hand into his bag and took out a handful 
of cigars. He offered one to Felix, who accepted, and lit it 
with the air of a man enjoying the reasonable civility of a 
chance fellow passenger. 

“You had, I presume,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “some 
object in coming to see the last of me? I do not wish 
to seem unduly inquisitive, but I feel a little natural 
interest, or shall we say curiosity as to the reason for 
this courtesy on your part ? ” 

“ You are quite correct,” Felix answered. “ I am here 
with a purpose. I am the bearer of a message to you.” 

“ May I ask, a friendly message, or otherwise ? ” 

His fingers were tightening upon the little hard substance 
in his pocket, but he was already beginning to doubt 
whether after all Felix had come as an enemy. 

“Friendly,” was the prompt answer. “I bring you an 
offer.” 

“ From Lobenski ? ” 

“ From his august master I The Czar himself has plans 
for you ! ” 

“ His serene Majesty,” Mr. Sabin murmured, “ has always 
been most kind.” It 

“ Since you left the country of the Shah,” Felix continued, 
“ Russian influence in Central Asia has been gradually upon 
the wane. All manner of means have been employed to 
conceal this, but the unfortunate fact remains. You were 
the only man who ever thoroughly grasped the situation and 
attained any real influence over the master of western Asia ! 
Your removal from Teheran was the result of an intrigue on 
the part of the English. It was the greatest misfortune 
which ever befel Russia ! ” 

“ And your offer ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

“ Is that you return to Teheran not as the secret agent, 
but as the accredited ambassador of Russia, with an abso- 
lutely free hand and unlimited powers.” 


MYSTERIOUS MR SABIN 


3^4 

“Such an offer,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ten years ago 
would have made Russia mistress of all Asia.” 

“ The Czar,” Felix said, “ is beginning to appreciate that. 
But what was possible then is possible now ! ” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. “ I am ten years older,” he 
said, “ and the Shah who was my friend is dead.” 

“ The new Shah,” Felix said, has a passion for intrigue, 
and the sands around Teheran are magnificent for golf.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 

“Too hard,” he said, “and too monotonous. I am 
peculiar perhaps in that respect, but I detest artificial 
bunkers. Now there is a little valley,” he continued 
thoughtfully, “about seven miles north of Teheran, where 
something might be done ! I wonder ” 

“ You accept,” Felix asked quietly. 

Mr. Sabin shook his head. 

“No, I decline.” 

It was a shock to Felix, but he hid his disappointment 

“ Absolutely ? ” 

“ And finally.” 

“Why?” 

“ I am ten years too old 1 ” 

“ That is resentment ! ” 

Mr. Sabin denied it. 

“ No ! Why should I not be frank with you, my friend ? 
What I would have done for Russia ten years ago, I would 
not do to-day ! She has made friends with the French 
Republic. She has done more than recognise the exis- 
tence of that iniquitous institution —she has pressed her 
friendship upon the president— she has spoken the word of 
alliance. Henceforth my feeling for Russia has changed. 
I have no object to gain in her development. I am richer 
than the richest of her nobles, and there is no title in 
Europe for which I would exchange my own. You see 
Russia has absolutely, nothing to offer me. Oa the other 


THE WAY TO PAV 


325 


hand, what would benefit Russia in Asia would ruin 
England, and England has given me and many of my 
kind a shelter, and has even held aloof from France. Of 
the two countries I would much prefer to aid England. If 
I had been the means of destroying her Asiatic empire ten 
years ago it would have been to me to-day a source of 
lasting regret. There, my friend, I have paid you the com- 
pliment of perfect frankness.” 

“If,” Felix said slowly, “the price of your success at 
Teheran should be the breach of our covenants with 
France — what then? Remember that it is the country 
whose friendship is pleasing to us, not the government. 
You cannot seriously doubt but that an autocrat, such 
as the Czar, would prefer to extend his hand to an 
Emperor of France than to soil his fingers with the clasp 
of a tradesman ! ” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head softly. “I have told you 
why I decline,” he said, “ but in my heart there are many 
other reasons. For one, I am no longer a young man. 
This last failure of mine has aged me. I have no heart 
for fresh adventures.” 

Felix sighed. 

“ My mission to you comes,” he said, “ at an unfortunate 
time. “ For the present, then, I accept defeat.” 

“ The fault,” Mr. Sabin murmured, “ is in no way with 
you. My refusal was a thing predestined. The Czar him- 
self could not move me.” 

The train was slowing a little. Felix looked out of the 
window. 

“ We are nearing Crewe,” he said. “ I shall alight then 
and return to London. You are for America, then ? ” 

“ Beyond doubt,” Mr. Sabin declared. 

Felix drew from his pocket a letter. 

“ If you will deliver this for me,” he said, “ you will do 
me a kindness, and you will make a pleasant acquaintance.” 


326 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Mr. Sabin glanced at the imprescription. It was ad- 
dressed to — 

Mrs. J. B. Peterson, 

Lenox, 

“Mass., U.S.A.” 

“ I will do so with pleasure,” he remarked, slipping it into 
his dressing-case. 

“And remember this,” Felix remarked, glancing out at 
the platform along which they were gliding. You are a 
marked man. Disguise is useless for you. Be ever on 
your guard. You and I have been enemies, but after all 
you are too great a man to fall by the hand of a German 
assassin. Farewell ! ” 

“I will thank you for your caution and remember it,” 
Mr. Sabin answered. “ Farewell ! ” 

Felix raised his hat, and Mr. Sabin returned the salute. 
The whistle sounded. Felix stepped out on -to the plat- 
form. 

“You will not forget the letter?” he asked. 

“I will deliver it in person without fail,” Mr. Sabin 
answered. 


CHAPTER XLI 


MR. AND MRS. WATSON OF NEW YORK 

It was their third day out, and Mr. Sabin was enjoying the 
voyage very much indeed. The Calipha was a small boat 
sailing to Boston instead of New York, and contemptuously 
termed by the ocean-going public an old tub. She carried, 
consequently, only seven passengers besides Mr. Sabin, and 
it had taken him but a very short time to decide that of 
those seven passengers not one was interested in him or his 
affairs. He had got clear away, for the present at any rate, 
from all the complications and dangers which had followed 
upon the failure of his great scheme. Of course by this 
time the news of his departure and destination was known 
to every one whom his movements concerned. That 
was almost a matter of course, and realising even the 
impossibility of successful concealment, Mr. Sabin had 
made no attempt at any. He had given the name of Sabin 
to the steward, and had secured the deck’s cabin for his 
own use. He chatted every day with the captain, who 
treated him with respect, and in reply to a question from 
one of the stewards who was a Frenchman, he admitted 
that he was the Due de Souspennier, and that he was 
travelling incognito only as a whim. He was distinctly 
popular with every one of the seven passengers, who were 
> littlQ doubtful how to address him, but whom he succeeded 

327 


328 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


always in putting entirely at their ease. He entered, too, 
freely into the little routine of steamer life. He played 
shuffleboard for an hour or more every morning, and was 
absolutely invincible at the game ; he brought his golf clubs 
on deck one evening after dinner, and explained the manner 
of their use to an admiring little circle of the seven passen- 
gers, the captain, and doctor. He rigorously supported the 
pool each day, and he even took a hand at a mild game of 
poker one wet afternoon, when timidly invited to do so by 
Mr. Hiram Shedge, an oil merchant of Boston. He had 
in no way the deportment or manner of a man who had just 
passed through a great crisis, nor would any one have 
gathered from his conversation or demeanour that he was 
the head of one of the greatest houses in Europe and a 
millionaire. The first time a shadow crossed his face was 
late one afternoon, when, coming on deck a little behind 
the others after lunch, he found them all leaning over the 
starboard bow, gazing intently at some object a little dis- 
tance off, and at the same time became aware that the 
engines had been put to half-speed. 

He was strolling towards the little group, when the 
captain, seeing him, beckoned him on to the bridge. 

“ Here’s something that will interest you, Mr. Sabin,” he 
called out. “ Won’t you step this way ? ” 

Mr. Sabin mounted the iron steps carefully but with his 
eyes turned seawards ; a large yacht of elegant shape and 
painted white from stern to bows was lying-to about half a 
mile off flying signals. 

Mr. Sabin reached the bridge and stood by the captain’s 
side. 

“A pleasure yacht,” he remarked. “ What does she want ? ” 

“ I shall know in a moment,” the captain answered with 
his glass to his eye. “ She flew a distress signal at first for 
us to stand by, so I suppose she’s in trouble. Ah 1 th^re it 
goes. ‘ Mainshaft broken/ she says.” 


MR. AND MRS. WATSON OF NEW YORK 


329 


“She doesn’t lie like it,” Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. 

The captain looked at him with a smile. 

“You know a bit about yachting too,” he said, “and, to 
tell you the truth, that’s just what I was thinking.” 

“ Holmes.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Ask her what she wants us to do.” 

The signalman touched his hat, and the little row of flags 
ran fluttering up in the breeze. 

“She signals herself the Mayflower^ private yacht, owner 
Mr. James Watson of New York,” he remarked. “ She’s a 
beautiful boat.” 

Mr. Sabin, who had brought his own glasses, looked at 
her long and steadily. 

“She’s not an American built boat, at any rate,” he 
remarked. 

An answering signal came fluttering back. The captain 
opened his book and read it. 

“She’s going on under canvas,” he said, “but she wants 
us to take her owner and his wife on board.” 

“ Are you compelled to do so ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

The captain laughed. 

“ Not exactly ! I’m not expected to pick up passengers 
in mid ocean.” 

“Then I shouldn’t do it,” Mr. Sabin said. “If they are 
in a hurry the Alaska is due up to-day, isn’t she? and she’ll 
be in New York in three days, and the Baltimore must be 
close behind her. I should let them know that.” 

“Well,” the captain answered, “I don’t want fresh passen- 
gers bothering just now.” 

The flags were run up, and the replies came back as 
promptly. The captain shut up his glass with a bang. 

“No getting out of them,” he remarked to Mr. Sabin. 
“They reply that the lady is nervous and will not wait; 
they ar^ coming on board at qnco — for fear I should go 


330 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


on, I suppose. They add that Mr. Watson is the largest 
American holder of Cunard stock and a director of the 
American Board, so have them we must — that’s pretty 
certain. I must see the purser.” 

He descended, and Mr. Sabin, following him, joined the 
little group of passengers. They all stood together watching 
the long rowirg boat which was coming swiftly towards 
them through the smooth sea. Mr. Sabin explained to 
them the messages which had passed, and together they 
admired the disabled yacht. 

Mr. Sabin touched the first mate on the arm as he passed. 

“Did you ever see a vessel like that, Johnson?” he 
remarked. 

The man shook his head. 

“ Their engineer is a fool, sir ! ” he declared scornfully. 
“ Nothing but my own eyes would make me believe there’s 
anything serious the matter with her shaft.” 

“ I agree with you,” Mr. Sabin said quietly. 

The boat was now within hailing distance. Mr. Sabin 
leaned down over the side and scanned its occupants closely. 
There was nothing in the least suspicious about them. The 
man who sat in the stern steering was a typical American, 
with thin sallow face and bright eyes. The woman wore a 
thick veil, but she was evidently young, and when she stood 
up displayed a figure and clothes distinctly Parisian. The 
two came up the ladder as though perfectly used to boarding 
a vessel in mid ocean, and the lady’s nervousness was at 
least not apparent. The captain advanced to meet them, 
and gallantly assisted the lady on to the deck. 

“This is Captain Ackinson, I presume,” the man re- 
marked with extended hand. “We are exceedingly obliged 
to you, sir, for taking us off. This is my wife, Mrs. James 
B. Watson.” 

Mrs. Watson raised her veil, and disclosed a dark, piquant 
face with \yoqderfully bright eyes, 


MR. AND MRS. WATSON OF NEW YORK 331 

“ It*s real nice of you, Captain,” she said frankly. “ You 
don’t know how good it is to feel the deck of a real ocean- 
going steamer beneath your feet after that little sailing boat 
of my husband’s. This is the very last time I attempt to 
cross the Atlantic except on one of your steamers.” 

“ We are very glad to be of stny assistance,” the captain 
answered, more heartily than a few minutes before he would 
have believed possible. “Full speed ahead, John ! ” 

There was a churning of water and dull throb of 
machinery restarting. The little rowing boat, already well 
away on its return journey, rocked on the long waves. Mr. 
Watson turned to shout some final instructions. Then the 
captain beckoned to the purser. 

“ Mr. Wilson will show you your state rooms,” he 
remarked. “ Fortunately we have plenty of room. Steward, 
take the baggage down.” 

The lady went below, but Mr. Watson remained on deck 
talking to the captain. Mr. Sabin strolled up to them. 

“Your yacht rides remarkably well, if her shaft is really 
broken,” he remarked. 

Mr. Watson nodded. 

“She’s a beautifully built boat,” he remarked with 
enthusiasm. “If the weather is favourable her canvas 
will bring her into Boston Harbour two days after us.” 

“ I suppose,” the captain asked, looking at her through 
his glass, “you satisfied yourself that her shaft was really 
broken ? ” 

“ I did not, sir,” Mr. Watson answered. “ My engineer 
reported it so, and, as I know nothing of machinery myself, 
I was content to take his word. He holds very fine 
diplomas, and I presume he knows what he is talking 
about. But anyway Mrs. Watson would never have stayed 
upon that boat one moment longer than she was com- 
pelled. She’s a wonderfully nervous woman is Mrs. 
Watson.” 


33 ^ 


MYSTERIOUS MR, SABIM 


** That’s a somewhat unsual trait for your countrywoman, 
is it not ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

Mr. J. B. Watson looked steadily at his questioner. 

“ My wife, sir,” he said, “ has lived for many years on 
the Continent. She would scarcely consider herself an 
American.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” Mr. Sabin remarked courteously. 
“ One can see at least that she has acquired the polish of 
the only habitable country in the world. But if I had taken 
the liberty of guessing at her nationality, I should have 
taken her to be a German.” 

Mr. Watson raised his eyebrows, and somehow managed 
to drop the match he was raising to his cigar. 

“You astonish me very much, sir,” he remarked. “I 
always looked upon the fair, rotund woman as the typical 
German face.” 

Mr. Sabin shook his head gently. 

“ There are many types,” he said “ aiwl nationality, you 
know, does not always go by complexion or size. For 
instance, you are very like many American gentlemen 
whom I have had the pleasure of meeting, but at the 
same time I should not have taken you for an American.” 

The captain laughed. 

“I can’t agree with you, Mr. Sabin,” he said. “Mr. 
Watson appears to me to be,- if he will pardon my saying 
so, the very type of the modern American man.” 

“I’m much obliged to you. Captain,” Mr. Watson said 
cheerfully. “ I’m a Boston man, that’s sure, and I believe, 
sir, I’m proud of it. I want to know for what nationality 
you would have taken me if you had not been informed ? ” 

“I should have looked for you also,” Mr. Sabin said 
deliberately, “in the streets of Berlin.” 


CHAPTER XLII 


A WEAK CONSPIRATOR 

At dinner-time Mrs. Watson appeared in a very dainty 
toilette of black and white, and was installed at the 
captain’s right hand. She was introduced at once to Mr. 
Sabin, and proceeded to make herself a very agreeable 
companion. 

“ Why, I call this perfectly delightful ! ” was almost her 
first exclamation, after a swift glance at Mr. Sabin’s 
quiet but irreproachable dinner attire. “ You can’t 
imagine how pleased I am to find myself once more in 
civilised society. I was never so dull in my life as on 
that poky little yacht.” 

“ Poky little yacht, indeed ! ” Mr. Watson interrupted, 
with a note of annoyance in his tone. “ The Mayflower 
anyway cost me pretty well two hundred thousand dollars, 
and she’s nearly the largest pleasure yacht afloat.” 

“I don’t care if she cost you a million dollars,” Mrs. 
Watson answered pettishly. “ I never want to sail on her 
again. I prefer this infinitely.” 

She laughed at Captain Ackinson, and her husband con- 
tinued his dinner in silence. Mr. Sabin made a mental 
note of two things — first, that Mr. Watson did not treat his 
wife with that consideration which is supposed to be dis- 
tinctive of American husbands , and secondly, that he drank 


334 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


a good deal of wine without becoming even a shade more 
amiable. His wife somewhat pointedly drank water, and 
turning her right shoulder upon her husband, devoted 
herself to the entertainment of her two companions. At 
the conclusion of the meal the captain was her abject 
slave, and Mr. Sabin was quite willing to admit that Mrs. 
J. B. Watson, whatever her nationality might be, was a 
very charming woman. 

After dinner Mr. Sabin went to his lower state room for 
an overcoat, and whilst feeling for some cigars, heard voices 
in the adjoining room, which had been empty up to now. 

“ Won’t you come and walk with me, James ? ” he heard 
Mrs. Watson say. “ It is such a nice evening, and I want 
to go on deck.” 

‘‘You can go without me, then,” was the gruff answer. 
“ I’m going to have a cigar in the smoke-room.” 

“ You can smoke,” she reminded him, “ on deck.” 

“Thanks,” he replied, “but I don’t care to give my 
Laranagas to the winds. You would come here, and you 
must do the best you can. You can’t expect to have me 
dangling after you all the time.” 

There was a silence, and then the sound of Mr. Watson’s 
heavy tread, as he left the state room, followed in a moment 
or two by the light footsteps and soft rustle of silk skirts, 
which indicated the departure also of his wife. 

Mr. Sabin carefully enveloped himself in an ulster, and 
stood for a moment or two wondering whether that conver- 
sation was meant to be overheard or not. He rang the bell 
for the steward. 

The man appeared almost immediately. Mr. Sabin had 
known how to ensure prompt service. 

“Was it my fancy, John? or did I hear voices in the 
state room opposite ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Watson have taken it, sir,” the man 
answered. 


A WEAK COmPiRATOk 


335 


Mr. Sabin appeared annoyed. 

“You know that some of my clothes are hung up 
there,” he remarked, and I have been using it as a 
dressing-room. There are heaps of state-rooms vacant 
Surely you could have found them another?” 

“ I did my best, sir, the man answered, “ but they seemed 
to take a particular fancy to that one. I couldn’t get them 
off it nohow.” 

“ Did they know,” Mr. Sabin asked carelessly, “ that the 
room opposite was occupied ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” the man answered. “ I told them that you 
were in number twelve, and that you used this as a dressing- 
room, but they wouldn’t shift. It was very foolish of them, 
too, for they wanted two, one each ; and they could just as 
well have had them together.” 

“Just as well,” Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. “Thank 
you, John. Don’t let them know I have spoken to you 
about it.” 

“ Certainly not, sir.” 

Mr. Sabin walked upon deck. As he passed the smoke- 
room he saw Mr. Watson stretched upon a sofa with a cigar 
in his mouth. Mr. Sabin smiled to himself, and passed 
on. 

The evening promenade on deck after dinner was 
quite a social event on board the Calipha. As a rule 
the captain and Mr. Sabin strolled together, none of 
the other passengers, notwithstanding Mr. Sabin’s courtesy 
towards them, having yet attempted in any way to thrust 
their society upon him. But to-night, as he had half ex- 
pected, the captain had already a companion. Mrs. 
Watson, with a very becoming wrap around her head, 
and a cigarette in her mouth, was walking by his side, 
chatting gaily most of the time, but listening also with an 
air of absorbed interest to the personal experiences which 
her questions provoked. Every now and then, as they 


536 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


passed Mr. Sabin, sometimes walking, sometimes gazing 
with an absorbed air at the distant chaos of sea and 
sky, she flashed a glance of invitation upon him, which he 
as often ignored. Once she half stopped and asked him 
some slight question, but he answered it briefly standing on 
one side, and the captain hurried her on. It was a stroke 
of ill-fortune, he thought to himself, the coming of these two 
people. He had had a clear start and a fair field ; now he 
was suddenly face to face with a danger, the full extent of 
which it was hard to estimate. For he could scarcely doubt 
but that their coming was on his account. They had played 
their parts well, but they were secret agents of the German 
police. He smoked his cigar leisurely, the object every 
few minutes of many side glances and covert smiles from 
the delicately attired little lady, whose silken skirts, daintily 
raised from the ground, brushed against him every few 
minutes as she and her companion passed and repassed. 
What was their plan of action ? he wondered. If it was 
simply to be assassination, why so elaborate an artifice ? and 
what worse place in the world could there be for anything 
of the sort than the narrow confines of a small steamer ? 
No, there was evidently something more complex on hand. 
Was the woman brought as a decoy ? he wondered ; did 
they really imagine him capable of being dazzled or fascina- 
ted by any woman on the earth ? He smiled softly at the- 
thought, and the sight of that smile lingering upon his 
lips brought her to a standstill. He heard suddenly the 
swish of her skirt, and her soft voice in his ear. Lower 
down the deck the captain’s broad shoulders were dis- 
appearing, as he passed on the way to the engineers’ room 
for his nightly visit of inspection. 

“ You have not made a single effort to rescue me,” she 
said reproachfully ; “ you are most unkind.” 

Mr. Sabin lifted his cap, and removed the cigar from his 
teeth. 


A WEAK CONSPIRATOR 


337 


“ My dear lady,” he said, “ I have been suffering the 
pangs of the neglected, but how dared I break in upon so 
confidential a tete-a-tete f ” 

“You have little of the courage of your nation, then,” 
'she answered laughing, “ for I gave you many opportunities. 
But you have been engrossed with your thoughts, and they 
succeeded at least where I failed — you were distinctly 
smiling when I came upon you.” 

“It was a premonition,” he began, but she raised a 
little white hand, flashing with rings, to his lips, and he 
was silent. 

“ Please don’t think it necessary to talk nonsense to me 
all the time,” she begged. “ Come ! I am tired — I want to 
sit down. Don’t you want to take my chair down by the 
side of the boat there ? I like to watch the lights on the 
water, and you may talk to me — if you like.” 

“ Your husband,” he remarked a moment or two later, as 
he arranged her cushions, “does not care for the evening 
air?” 

“ It is sufficient for him,” she answered quietly, “ that I 
prefer it. He will not leave the smoking-room until the 
lights are put out.” 

“ In an ordinary way,” he remarked, “ that must be dull 
for you.” 

“ In an ordinary way, and every way,” she answered in a 
low tone, “I am always dull. But, after all, I must not 
weary a stranger with my woes. Tell me about yourself, 
Mr. Sabin. Are you going to America on pleasure, or have 
you business there ? ” 

A faint smile flickered across Mr. Sabin’s face. He 
watched the white ash trembling upon his cigar for a 
moment before he spoke. 

“ I can scarcely be said to be going to America on 
pleasure,” he answered, “nor have I any business there. 
Let us agree that I am going because it is the one country 

22 


338 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


in the world of any importance which I have never 
visited.” 

You have been a great traveller, then,” she murmured, 
looking up at him with innocent, wide-open eyes. “ You 
look as though you have been everywhere. Won’t you tell 
me about some of the odd places you have visited ? ” 

“With pleasure,” he answered; “but first won’t you 
gratify a natural and very specific curiosity of mine ? I am 
going to a country which I have never visited before. Tell 
me a little about it. Let us talk about America.” 

She stole a sudden, swift glance at her questioner. No, 
he did not appear to be watching her. His eyes were 
fixed idly upon the sheet of phosphorescent light which 
glittered in the steamer’s track. Nevertheless, she was 
a little uneasy. 

“ America,” she said, after a moment’s pause, “ is the 
one country I detest. We are only there very seldom — 
when Mr. Watson’s business demands it. You could 
not seek for information from any one worse informed 
than I am.” 

“ How strange ! ” he said softly. “ You are the first un- 
patriotic American I have ever met.” 

“You should be thankful,” she remarked, “that I am an 
exception. Isn’t it pleasant to meet people who are differ- 
ent from other people ? ” 

“ In the present case it is delightful ! ” 

“ I wonder,” she said reflectively, “ in which school you 
studied my sex, and from what particular woman you 
learned the art of making those little speeches ? ” 

“ I can assure you that I am a novice,” he declared. 
“Then you have a wonderful future before you. You 
will make a courtier, Mr. Sabin.” 

“ I shall be happy to be the humblest of attendants in 
the court where you are queen.” 

“ Such proficiency,” she murmured, “ is the hall mark 


A IVEAA^ CONSPIRATOR 


339 


of insincerity. You are not a man to be trusted, Mr. 
Sabin.” 

“ Try me,” he begged. 

“ I will ! I will tell you a secret.” 

“I will lock it in the furthest chamber of my inner 
consciousness.” 

“ I am going to America for a purpose.” 

“ Wonderful woman,” he murmured, “ to have a purpose *' 

“ I am going to get a divorce ! ” 

Mr. Sabin was suddenly thoughtful. 

“ I have always understood,” he said, “ that the marriage 
laws of America are convenient.” 

“ They are humane. They make me thankful that I am 
an American.” 

Mr. Sabin inclined bis head slightly towards the smoking- 
room. 

“ Does your unfortunate husband know ? ” 

“ He does ; and he acquiesces. He has no alternative. 
But is that quite nice of you, Mr. Sabin, to call my husband 
an unfortunate man ? ” 

“ I cannot conceive,” he said slowly, “greater misery 
than to have possessed and lost you.” 

She laughed gaily. Mr. Sabin permitted himself to 
admire that laugh. It was like the tinkling of a silver 
bell, and her teeth were perfect. 

“You are incorrigible,” she said. “I believe that if I 
would let you, you would make love to me.” 

“If I thought,” he answered, “that you would never 
allow me to make love to you, I should feel like following 
this cigar.” He threw it into the sea. 

She sighed, and tapped her little French heel upon the 
deck. 

“ What a pity that you are like all other men.” 

“I will say nothing so unkind of you,” he remarked, 
“ You are unlike any other woman whom I ever met,” 


340 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIM 


They listened together to the bells sounding from the 
quarter deck. It was eleven o’clock. The deck behind 
them was deserted, and a fine drizzling rain was beginning 
to fall. Mrs. Watson removed the rug from her knees 
regretfully. 

“ I must go,” she said ; “ do you hear how late it is ? ” 

“You will tell me all about America,” he said, rising and 
drawing back her chair, “ to-morrow ? ” 

“ If we can find nothing more interesting to talk about,” 
she said, looking up at him with a sparkle in her dark eyes. 
“ Good night.” 

Her hand, very small and white, and very soft, lingered 
in his. At that moment an unpleasant voice sounded in 
their ears. 

“ Do you know the time, Violet ? The lights are out all 
over the ship. I don’t understand what you are doing on 
deck.” 

Mr. Watson was not pleasant to look upon. His eyes 
were puffy, and swollen, and he was not quite steady upon 
his feet. His wife looked at him in cold displeasure. 

“ The lights are out in the smoke-room, I suppose,” she 
said, “ or we should not have the pleasure of seeing you. 
Good night, Mr. Sabin ! Thank you so much for looking 
after me ! ” 

Mr. Sabin bowed and walked slowly away, lighting a 
fresh cigarette. If it was acting, it was very admirably 
don^. 


CHAPTER XLIII 


THE COMING OF THE “ KAISER WILHELM ” 

The habit of early rising was one which Mr. Sabin had 
never cultivated, and breakfast was a meal which he 
abhorred. It was not until nearly midday on the following 
morning that he appeared on deck, and he had scarcely 
exchanged his customary greeting with the captain, before 
he was joined by Mr. Watson, who had obviously been on 
the look-out for him. 

“ I want, sir,” the latter commenced, “to apologise to you 
for my conduct last night.” 

Mr. Sabin looked at him keenly. 

“ There is no necessity for anything of the sort,” he said. 
“ If any apology is owing at all, it is, I think, to your wife.” 

Mr. Watson shook his head vigorously. 

“No, sir,” he declared, “I am ashamed to say that I am 
not very clear as to the actual expressions I made, but Mrs. 
Watson has assured me that my behaviour to you was dis- 
courteous in the extreme.” 

“ I hope you will think no more of it. I had already,” Mr 
Sabin said, “ forgotten the circumstance. It is not of the 
slightest consequence.” 

“ You are very good,” Mr. Watson said softly. 

“ I had the pleasure,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “ of an inte- 
resting conversation with your wife last night. You are a 
very fortunate man.” 


34 > 


342 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ I think so indeed, sir,” Mr. Watson replied modestly. 

“ American women,” Mr. Sabin continued, looking medi- 
tatively out to sea, “ are very fascinating.” 

“ I have always found them so,” Mr. Watson agreed. 

“Mrs. Watson,” Mr. Sabin said, “told me so much that 
was interesting about your wonderful country that I am 
looking forward to my visit more than ever.” 

Mr. Watson darted a keen glance at his companion. He 
was suddenly on his guard. For the first time he realised 
something of the resources of this man with whom he had 
to deal. 

“My wife,” he said, “knows really very little of her 
native country ; she has lived nearly all her life abroad.” 

“So I perceived,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Shall we sit 
down a moment, Mr. Watson? One wearies so of this 
incessant promenading, and there is a little matter which I 
fancy that you and I might discuss with advantage.” 

Mr. Watson obeyed in silence. This was a wonderful 
man with whom he had to deal. Already he felt that all 
the elaborate precautions of his coming had been wasted. 
He might be Mr. James B. Watson, the New York yacht 
owner and millionaire, to the captain and his seven passen- 
gers, but he was nothing of the sort to Mr. Sabin. He 
shrugged his shoulders, and followed him to a seat. After 
all silence was a safe card. 

“ I’m going,” Mr. Sabin said, “ to be very frank with you. 
I know, of course, who you are.” 

Mr. Watson shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Do you ? ” he remarked dryly. 

Mr. Sabin bowed, with a faint smile at the corner of his 
lips. 

“ Certainly,” he answered, “ you are Mr. James B. Watson 
of New York, and the lady with you is your wife. Now I 
want to tell you a little about myself.” 

“ Most interested. I’m sure,” Mr. Watson murmured. 


THE COMING OF THE KAISER WILHELM'* 343 


“My real name,” Mr. Sabin said, turning a little as 
though to face his companion, “is Victor Due de Sous* 
pennier. It suits me at present to travel under the name 
by which I was known in England and by which you are 
in the habit of addressing me. Mr. Watson, I’m leaving 
England because a certain scheme of mine, which, if suc- 
cessful, would have revolutionised the whole face of Europe, 
has by a most unfortunate chance become a failure. I have 
incurred thereby the resentment, perhaps I should say the just 
resentment, of a great nation. I am on my way to the 
country where I concluded I should be safest against those 
means of, shall I say, retribution, or vengeance, which will 
assuredly be used against me. Now what I want to say to 
you, Mr. Watson, is this — I am a rich man, and I value my 
life at a great deal of money. I wonder if by any chance 
you understand me.” 

Mr. Watson smiled. 

“ I’m curious to know,” he said softly, “at what price you 
value yourself.” 

“ My account in New York,” Mr. Sabin said quietly, “ is, 
I believe, something like ten thousand pounds.” 

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Mr. Watson remarked, “is 
a nice little sum for one, but an awkward amount to 
divide.” 

Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and breathed more freely. He 
began to see his way. 

“I forgot the lady,” he murmured. “The expense of 
cabling is not great. For the sake of argument, let us say 
twenty thousand.” 

Mr. Watson rose. 

“ So far as I’m concerned,” he said, “ it is a satisfactory 
sum. Forgive me if I leave you for a few minutes, I must 
have a little talk with Mrs. Watson.” 

Mr. Sabin nodded. 

“ We will have a cigar together after lunch,” he said. “X 


344 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


must have my morning game of shuffleboard with the 
captain.” 

Mr. Watson went below, and Mr. Sabin played shuffle- 
board with his usual deadly skill. 

A slight mist had settled around them by the time the 
game was over, and the fog horn was blowing, the captain 
went on the bridge, and the engines were checked to half 
speed. 

Mr. Sabin leaned over the side of the vessel, and gazed 
thoughtfully into the dense white vapour. 

“ I think,” he said softly to himself, “that after all I’m safe.” 

There was perfect silence on the ship. Even the luncheon 
gong had not sounded, the passengers having been sum- 
moned in a whisper by the deck steward. The fog seemed 
to be getting denser and the sea was like glass. Suddenly 
there was a little commotion aft, and the captain leaning 
forward shouted some brief orders. The fog-horn emitted 
a series of spasmodic and hideous shrills, and beyond a 
slight drifting the steamer was almost motionless. 

Mr. Sabin understood at once that somewhere, it might 
be close at hand, or it might be a mile away, the presence 
of another steamer had been detected. 

The same almost ghostlike stillness continued, orders 
were passed backward and forward in whispers. The men 
walked backward and forward on tiptoe. And then sud- 
denly, without any warning, they passed out into the clear 
air, the mist rolled away, the sun shone down upon them 
again, and the decks dried as though by magic. Cheerful 
voices broke in upon the chill and unnatural silence. The 
machinery recommenced to throb, and the passengers who 
had finished lunch went upon deck. Every one was at- 
tracted at once by the sight of a large white steamer about 
a mile on the starboard side. 

Mr. Watson joined the captain, whp was examining her 
through his glass, 


THE COMING OF THE KAISER WILHELM** 345 


“ Man-of-war, isn’t she ? ” he inquired. 

The captain nodded. 

“Not much doubt about that,” he answered; “look at 
her guns. The odd part of it is, too, she is flying no flag. 
We shall know who she is in a minute or two, though.” 

Mr. Sabin descended the steps on his way to a late 
luncheon. As he turned the corner he came face to face 
with Mr. Watson, whose eyes were fixed upon the coming 
steamer with a very curious expression. 

“Man-of-war,” Mr. Sabin remarked. “You look as 
though you had seen her before.” 

Mr. Watson laughed harshly. 

“ I should like to see her,” he remarked, “ at the bottom 
of the sea.” 

Mr. Sabin looked at him in surprise. 

“You know her, then?” he remarked. 

“ I know her,” Mr. Watson answered, “ too well. She is 
the Kaiser Wilhelm^ and she is going to rob me of twenty 
thousand pounds.” 


CHAPTER XLIV 


THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED 

Mr. Sabin ate his luncheon with unimpaired appetite and 
with his usual care that everything of which he partook 
should be so far as possible of the best. The close presence 
of the German man-of-war did not greatly alarm him. He 
had some knowledge of the laws and courtesies of maritime 
life, and he could not conceive by what means short of 
actual force he could be inveigled on board of her. Mr. 
Watson’s last words had been a little disquieting, but he 
probably held an exaggerated opinion as to the powers 
possessed by his employers. Mr. Sabin had been in many 
tighter places than this, and he had sufficient belief in the 
country of his recent adoption to congratulate himself that 
it was an English boat on which he was a passenger. He 
proceeded to make himself agreeable to Mrs. Watson, who, 
in a charming costume of blue and white, and a fascinating 
little hat, had just come on to luncheon. 

“ I have been talking,” he remarked, after a brief pause in 
their conversation, “ to your husband this morning.” 

She looked up at him with a meaning smile upon her 
face. 

“So he has been telling md” 

“I hope,” Mr. Sabin continued gently, “that your 
advice to him — I take it for granted that he comes to 
you for advice — was in my favour.” 

346 


THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED 


347 


** It was very much in your favour,” she answered, leaning 
across towards him. “ I think that you knew it would be.” 

“ I hoped at least ” 

Mr. Sabin broke off suddenly in the midst of his sentence, 
and turning round looked out of the open port-hole. Mrs. 
Watson had dropped her knife and fork and was holding her 
hands to her ears. The saloon itself seemed to be shaken 
by the booming of a gun fired at close quarters. 

“ What is it ? ” she exclaimed, looking across at him with 
frightened eyes. “ What can have happened ! England is 
not at war with anybody, is she ? ” 

Mr. Sabin looked up with a quiet smile from the salad 
which he was mixing. 

“ It is simply a signal from another ship,” he answered. 
“ She wants us to stop.” 

“ What ship ? Do you know anything about it ? Do you 
know what they want ? ” 

“ Not exactly,” Mr. Sabin said. “ At the same time 
I have some idea. The ship who fired that signal is a 
German man-of-wai, and you see we are stopping.” 

Of the two Mrs. Watson was certainly the most nervous. 
Her fingers shook so that the wine in her glass was spilt. 
She set her glass down and looked across at her companion. 

“ They will take you away,” she murmured. 

“ I think not,” Mr. Sabin answered. “ I am inclined 
to think that I am perfectly safe. Will you try some of 
my salad?” 

A look of admiration flashed for a moment across her face. 

“ You are a wonderful man,” she said softly. “ No salad, 
thanks ! I am too nervous to eat. Let us go on deck ! ” 

Mr. Sabin rose, and carefully selected a cigarette. 

“ I can assure you,” he said, “that they are powerless to 
do anything except attempt to frighten Captain Ackinson. 
Of course they might succeed in that, but I don’t think it is 
likely. Let us go and hear what he has to say.” 


34^ 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Captain Ackinson was standing alone on the deck, watch, 
ing th^i man-of-war’s boat which was being rapidly pulled 
towards the Calipha. He was obviously in a bad temper. 
There was a black frown upon his forehead which did not 
altogether disappear when he turned his head and saw them 
approaching. 

“ Are we arrested, Captain ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. “ Why 
couldn’t they signal what they wanted ? ” 

“ Because they’re blistering idiots,” Captain Ackinson 
answered. “They blither me to stop, and I signalled back 
to ask their reason, and I’m dashed if they didn’t put a shot 
across my bows. As if I hadn’t lost enough time already 
without fooling.” 

“ Thanks to us, I am afraid. Captain,” Mrs. Watson put in. 

“Well, I’m not regretting that, Mrs. Watson,” the captain 
answered gallantly. “We got something for stopping there, 
but we shall get nothing decent from these confounded 
Germans, I am very sure. By the bye, can you speak their 
lingo, Mr. Sabin ? ” 

“ Yes,” Mr. Sabin answered, “ I can speak German. Can 
I be of any assistance to you ? ” 

“ You might stay with me if you will,” Captain Ackinson 
answered, “ in case they don’t speak English.” 

Mr. Sabin remained by the captain’s side, standing with 
his hands behind him. Mrs. Watson leaned over the rail 
close at hand, watching the approaching boat, and exchang- 
ing remarks with the doctor. In a few minutes the boat was 
alongside, and an officer in the uniform of the German Navy 
rose and made a stiff salute. 

“ Are you the captain ? ” he inquired, in stiff but correct 
English. 

The captain returned his salute. 

“I am Captain Ackinson, Cunard ss. Calipha,^^ he 
answered. “What do you want with me?” 

“I am Captain Von Dronestein, in command of the 


THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED 


349 


Kaiser Wilhelm, German Navy,” was the reply. “ I want a 
word or two with you in private, Captain Ackinson. Can I 
come on board ? ” 

Captain Ackinson’s reply was not gushing. He gave the 
necessary orders, however, and in a few moments Captain 
Von Dronestein, and a thin, dark man in the dress of a 
civilian, clambered to the deck. They looked at Mr. Sabin, 
standing by the captain’s side, and exchanged glances of 
intelligence. 

“If you will kindly permit us. Captain,” the newcomer 
said, “ we should like to speak with you in private. The 
matter is one of great importance.” 

Mr. Sabin discreetly retired. The captain turned on his 
heel and led the way to his cabin. He pointed briefly to 
the lounge against the wall and remained himself standing. 

“Now, gentlemen, if you please,” he said briskly, “to 
business. You have stopped a mail steamer in mid ocean 
by force, so I presume you have something of importance to 
say. Please say it and let me go on. I am behind time 
now.” 

The German held up his hands. “We have stopped 
you,” he said, “it is true, but not by force. No ! No ! ” 

“ I don’t know what else you call it when you show me 
a bounding thirty guns and put a shot across my bows.” 

“ It was a blank charge,” the German began, but Captain 
Ackinson interrupted him. 

“ It was nothing of the sort ! ” he declared bluntly. “ I 
was on deck and I saw the charge strike the water.” 

“ It was then contrary to my orders,” Captain Dronestein 
declared, “ and in any case it was not intended for intimida- 
tion.” 

“ Never mind what it was intended for. I have my own 
opinion about that,” Captain Ackinson remarked impatiently. 
“Proceed if you please ! ” 

“ In the first place permit me to introduce the Baron Von 


350 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Graisheim, who is attached to the Ministry for Foreign 
Affairs at Berlin.” 

Captain Ackinson’s acknowledgment of the introduction 
was barely civil. The German continued — 

“I am afraid you will not consider my errand here 
a particularly pleasant one, Herr Captain. I have a war- 
rant here for the arrest of one of your passengers, whom 
I have to ask you to hand over to me.” 

“ A what ! ” Captain Ackinson exclaimed, with a spot 
of deep colour stealing through the tan of his cheeks. 

“ A warrant,” Dronestein continued, drawing an imposing 
looking document from his breast pocket. “ If you will 
examine it you will perceive that it is in perfect order. It 
bears, in fact,” he continued, pointing with reverential fore- 
finger to a signature near the bottom of the document, “ the 
seal of his most august Majesty, the Emperor of Germany.” 

Captain Ackinson glanced at the document with imper- 
turbable face. 

“ What is the name of the gentleman to whom all this 
refers ? ” he inquired. 

“ The Due de Souspennier ! ” 

“The name,” Captain Ackinson remarked, “is not upon 
my passengers’ list.” 

“ He is travelling under the alias of ‘ Mr. Sabin,’ ” Baron 
Von Graisheim interjected. 

“And do you expect me,” Captain Ackinson remarked, 
“to hand over the person in question to you on the 
authority of that document?” 

“ Certainly ! ” the two men exclaimed with one voice. 

“Then I am very sorry indeed,” Captain Ackinson 
declared, “ that you should have had the temerity to stop 
my ship, and detain me here on such a fool’s errand. We 
are on the high seas and under the English flag. The 
document you have just shown me impeaching the Due de 
Souspennier for ‘lese majestie’ and high treason, and. the 


THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED 


35t 


rest of it, is not worth the paper it is written on here, nor, I 
should think in America. I must ask you to leave my ship 
at once, gentlemen, and I can promise you that my em- 
ployers, the Cunard ss. Company, will bring a claim against 
your Government for this unwarrantable detention.” 

“You must, if you please, be reasonable,” Captain 
Dronestein said. “We have force behind us, and we 
are determined to rescue this man at all costs.” 

Captain Ackinson laughed scornfully. 

“ I shall be interested to see what measures of force you 
will employ,” he remarked. “ You may have a tidy bill to 
pay as it is, for that shot you put across my bows. If you 
try another it may cost you the Kaiser Wilhelm and the 
whole of the German Navy. Now, if you please, Fve no 
more time to waste.” 

Captain Ackinson moved towards the door. Dronestein 
laid his hand upon his arm. 

“ Captain Ackinson,” he said, “ do not be rash. If 
I have seemed too peremptory in this matter, remember 
that Germany as my fatherland is as dear to me as England 
to you, and this man whose arrest I am commissioned 
to effect has earned for himself the deep enmity of all 
patriots. Listen to me, I beg. You run not one shadow of 
risk in delivering this man up to my custody. He has 
no country with whom you might become embroiled. He 
is a French Royalist, who has cast himself adrift altogether 
from his country, and is indeed her enemy. Apart from 
that, his detention, trial and sentence, would be before 
a secret court. He would simply disappear. As for you, 
you need not fear but that your services will be amply 
recognised. Make your claims now for this detention of 
your steamer ; fix it if you will at five or even ten thousand 
pounds, and I will satisfy it on the spot by a draft on the 
Imperial Exchequer. The man can be nothing to you. 
Make a great country your debtor. You will never regret it.” 


35 ^ 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


Captain Ackinson shook his arm free from the other’s 
grasp, and strode out on to the deck. 

Kaiser Wilhelm boat alongside,” he shouted, blowing 
his whistle. “ Smith, have these gentlemen lowered at once, 
and pass the word to the engineer’s room, full speed ahead.” 

He turned to the two men, who had followed him out. 

“You had better get off my ship before I lose my 
temper,” he said bluntly. “But rest assured that I shall 
report this attempt at intimidation and bribery to my 
employers, and they will without doubt lay the matter 
before the Government.” • 

“ But Captain Ackinson 

“ Not another word, sir.” 

“ My dear ” 

Captain Ackinson turned his back upon the two men, and 
with a stiff, military salute turned towards the bridge. Al- 
ready the machinery was commencing to throb. Mr. 
Watson, who was hovering near, came up and helped 
them to descend. A few apparently casual remarks passed 
between the three men. From a little lower down Mr. 
Sabin and Mrs. Watson leaned over the rail and watched 
the visitors lowered into their boat. 

“ That was rather a foolish attempt,” he remarked lightly ; 
“nevertheless they seem disappointed.” 

She looked after them pensively. 

“ I wish I knew what they said to — my husband,” she 
murmured. 

“ Orders for my assassination, very likely,” he remarked 
lightly. “ Did you see your husband’s face when he passed 
us?” 

She nodded, and looked behind. Mr. Watson had 
entered the smoke-room. She drew a little nearer to 
Mr. Sabin and dropped her voice almost to a whisper. 

“What you have said in jest is most likely the truth. 
Be very careful!” 


CHAPTER XLV 


MR. SABIN IN DANGER 

Mr. Sabin found the captain by no means inclined to 
talk about the visit which they had just received. He was 
still hurt and ruffled at the propositions which had been 
made to him, and annoyed at the various delays which 
seemed conspiring to prevent him from making a decent 
passage. 

“ I have been most confoundedly insulted by those d 

Germans,” he said to Mr. Sabin, meeting him a little later 
in the gangway. “ I don’t know exactly what your position 
may be, but you will have to be on your guard. They have 
gone on to New York, and I suppose they will try and get 
their warrant endorsed there before we land.” 

“ They have a warrant, then ? ” Mr. Sabin remarked. 

“They showed me something of the sort,” the captain 
answered scornfully. “And it is signed by the Kaiser. 
But, of course, here it isn’t worth the paper it is written on, 
and America would never give you up without a special 
extradition treaty.” 

Mr. Sabin smiled. He had calculated all the chances 
nicely, and a volume of international law was lying at that 
moment in his state-room face downwards. 

“ I think,” he said, “ that I am quite safe from arrest, 
but at the same time. Captain, I am very sorry to be such a 
troublesome passenger to /ou.” 

23 


353 


354 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIII 


The captain shrugged his shoulders. “ Oh, it is not 
your fault,” he said ; “ but I have made up my mind about 
one thing. I am not going to stop my ship this side of 
Boston Harbour for anything afloat. We have lost half a 
day already.” 

“If the Cunard Company will send me the extra coal 
bill,” Mr. Sabin said, “ I will pay it cheerfully, for I 
am afraid that both stoppages have been on my ac- 
count.” 

“ Bosh ! ” The Captain, who was moving away, stopped 
short. “ You had nothing to do with these New Yorkers 
and their broken-down yacht.” 

Mr. Sabin finished lighting a cigarette which he had 
taken from his case, and, passing his arm through the 
captain’s, drew him a little further away from the gang- 
way. 

“ I’m afraid I had,” he said. “ As a matter of fact they 
are not New Yorkers, and they are not husband and wife. 
They are simply agents in the pay of the German secret 
police.” 

“ What, spies ! ” the captain exclaimed. 

Mr. Sabin nodded. 

“ Exactly ! ” 

The captain was still incredulous. “Do you mean to 
tell me,” he exclaimed, “ that charming little woman is not 
an American at all ? — that she is a fraud ? ” 

“ There isn’t a shadow of a doubt about it,” Mr. Sabin 
replied. “They have both tacitly admitted it. As a 
matter of fact I am in treaty now to buy them over. They 
were on the point of accepting my terms when these fellows 
boarded us. Whether they will do so now I cannot tell. 
I saw that fellow Graisheim talking to the man just before 
they left the vessel.” 

“You are safe while you are on my ship, Mr. Sabin,” 
the captain said firmly. “I shall watch that fellow 


MR. SABIN IN DANGER 


355 


Watson closely, and if he gives me the least chance, 1 
will have him put in irons. Confound the man and his 
plausible ” 

They were interrupted by the deck steward, who came 
with a message from Mrs. Watson. She was making tea 
on deck — might she have the loan of the captain’s table, 
and would they come ? 

The captain gave the necessary assent, but was on the 
point of declining the invitation. “ I don’t want to go near 
the people,” he said. 

“ On the other hand,” Mr. Sabin objected, “ I do not 
want them to think, at present at any rate, that I have told 
you who they are. You had better come.” 

They crossed the deck to a sunny little corner behind 
one of the boats, where Mrs. Watson had just completed 
her preparation for tea. 

She greeted them gaily and chatted to them while they 
waited for the kettle to boil, but to Mr. Sabin’s observant 
eyes there was a remarkable change in her. Her laughter 
was forced and she was very pale. 

Several times Mr. Sabin caught her watching him in an 
odd way as though she desired to attract his attention, but 
Mr. Watson, who for once had seemed to desert the smoking- 
room, remained by her side like a shadow. Mr. Sabin felt 
that his presence was ominous. The tea was made and 
handed round. 

Mr. Watson sent away the deck steward, who was prepar- 
ing to wait upon them, and did the honours himself. He 
passed the sugar to the captain and stood before Mr. Sabin 
with the sugar-tongs in his hand. 

“ Sugar ? ” he inquired, holding out a lump. 

Mr. Sabin took sugar, and was on the point of holding 
out his cup. Just then he chanced to glance across to 
Mrs. Watson. Her eyes were dilated and she seemed to 
be on the point of springing from her chair. Meeting his 


356 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


glance she shook her head, and then bent over her hot 
water apparatus. 

“No sugar, thanks,” Mr. Sabin answered. “This tea 
looks too good to spoil by any additions. One of the best 
things I learned in Asia was to take my tea properly. Help 
yourself, Mr. Watson.” 

Mr. Watson rather clumsily dropped the piece of sugar 
which he had been holding out to Mr. Sabin, and the ship 
giving a slight lurch just at that moment, it rolled down the 
deck and apparently into the sea. With a little remark as 
to his clumsiness he resumed his seat. 

Mr. Sabin looked into his tea and across to Mrs. Watson. 
The slightest of nods was sufficient for him. He drank it 
off and asked for some more. 

The tea party on the whole was scarcely a success. The 
Captain was altogether upset and quite indisposed to be 
amiable towards people who had made a dupe of him. 
Mrs. Watson seemed to be suffering from a state of nervous 
excitement, and her husband was glum and silent. Mr. 
Sabin alone appeared to be in good spirits, and he talked 
continually with his customary ease and polish. 

The Captain did not stay very long, and upon his depar- 
ture Mr. Sabin also rose. 

“ Am I to have the pleasure of taking you for a little 
walk, Mrs. Watson ? ” he asked. 

She looked doubtfully at the tall, glum figure by her side, 
and her face was almost haggard. 

“I’m afraid — I think — I think — Mr. Watson has just 
asked me to walk with him,” she said, lamely ; “ we must 
have our stroll later on.” 

“ I shall be ready and delighted at any time,” Mr. Sabin 
answered with a bow. 

“We are going to have a moon to-night j perhaps you 
may be tempted to walk after dinner.” 

He ignored the evidept restraint of both the mm and 


MR. SABIN IN DANGER 


357 


the woman and strolled away. Having nothing in particular 
to do he went into his deck cabin to dress a little earlier 
than usual, and when he had emerged the dinner-gong had 
not yet sounded. 

The deck was quite deserted, and lighting a cigarette 
cVappetit^ he strolled past the scene of their tea-party. A 
dark object under the boat attracted his attention. He 
stooped down and looked at it. Thomas, the ship’s cat, 
was lying there stiff and stark, and by the side of his out- 
stretched tongue a lump of sugar. 


CHAPTER XLVI 

MR. WATSON IS ASTONISHED 

At dinner-time Mr. Sabin was the most silent of the little 
quartette who occupied the head of the table. The captain, 
who had discovered that notwithstanding their stoppage they 
had made a very fair day’s run, and had just noticed a favour- 
able change in the wind, was in a better humour, and on the 
whole was disposed to feel satisfied with himself for the way 
he had repulsed the captain of the Kaiser Wilhelm. He 
departed from his usual custom so far as to drink a glass of 
Mr. Sabin’s champagne, having first satisfied himself as to 
the absence of any probability of fog. Mr. Watson, too, was 
making an effort to appear amiable, and his wife, though her 
colour seemed a trifle hectic and her laughter not altogether 
natural, contributed her share to the conversation. Mr. 
Sabin alone was curiously silent and distant. Many times 
he had escaped death by what seemed almost a fluke; more 
often than most men he had been at least in danger of losing 
it. But this last adventure had made a distinct and deep 
impression upon him. He had not seriously believed that 
the man Watson was prepared to go to such lengths ; he 
recognised for the first time his extreme danger. Then as 
regards the woman he was genuinely puzzled. He owed her 
his life, he could not doubt it. She had given him the warning 

by which he had profited, and she had given it him behind 

358 


MR, WATSON IS ASTONISHED 


359 


his companion’s back. He was strongly inclined to believe 
in her. Still, she was doubtless in fear of the man. Her 
whole appearance denoted it. She was still, without doubt, 
his tool, willing or unwilling. 

They lingered longer than usual over their dessert. It 
was noticeable that throughout their conversation all mention 
of the events of the day was excluded. A casual remark of 
Mr. Watson’s the captain had ignored. There was an obvious 
inclination to avoid the subject. The captain was on the 
qui vive all the time, and he promptly quashed any embar- 
rassing remark. So far as Mrs. Watson was concerned there 
was certainly no fear of her exhibiting any curiosity. It was 
hard to believe that she was the same woman who had virtu- 
ally taken the conversation into her own hands on the 
previous evening, and had talked to them so well and so 
brightly. She sat there, white and cowed, looking a great 
deal at Mr. Sabin with sad, far-away eyes, and seldom origi- 
nating a remark. Mr. Watson, on the contrary, talked 
incessantly, in marked contrast to his previous silence ; he 
drank no wine, but seemed in the best of spirits. Only 
once did he appear at a loss, and that was when the 
captain, helping himself to some nuts, turned towards Mr. 
Sabin and asked a question — 

“I wonder, Mr. Sabin, whether you ever heard of an 
Indian nut called, I believe, the Fakella ? They say that 
an oil distilled from its kernel is the most deadly poison in 
the world.” 

“I have both heard of it and seen it,” Mr. Sabin 
answered. “ In fact, I may say, that I have tasted it — on 
the tip of my finger.” 

“And yet,” the captain remarked, laughing, “you are 
alive.” 

“ And yet I am alive,” Mr. Sabin echoed. “ But there is 
nothing very wonderful in that. I am poison-proof” 

Mr. Watson was in the act qt raising a hastily filled glass 


36 o 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


to his lips when his eyes met Mr. Sabin’s. He set it down 
hurriedly, white to the lips. He knew, then ! Surely there 
must be something supernatural about the man. A convic- 
tion of his own absolute impotence suddenly laid hold of 
him. He was completely shaken. Of what use were the 
ordinary weapons of his kind against an antagonist such as 
this ? He knew nothing of the silent evidence against him 
on deck. He could only attribute Mr. Sabin’s foreknowledge 
of what had been planned against him to the miraculous. 
He stumbled to his feet, and muttering something about 
some cigars, left his place. Mrs. Watson rose almost 
immediately afterwards. As she turned to walk down the 
saloon she dropped her handkerchief. Mr. Sabin, who had 
risen while she passed out, stooped down and picked it up. 
She took it with a smile of thanks and whispered in his 
ear — 

“Come on deck with me quickly; I want to speak to 
you.” 

He obeyed, turning round and making some mute sign 
to the captain. She walked swiftly up the stairs after a 
frightened glance down the corridor to their state-rooms. 
A fresh breeze blew in their faces as they stepped out on 
deck, and Mr. Sabin glanced at her bare neck and arms. 

“You will be cold,” he said. “Let me fetch you a 
wrap.” 

“ Don’t leave me,” she exclaimed quickly. “ Walk to the 
side of the steamer. Don’t look behind.” 

Mr. Sabin obeyed. Directly she was sure that they were 
really beyond earshot of any one she laid her hand upon 
his arm. 

“ I am going to ask you a strange question,” she said. 
“ Don’t stop to think what it means, but answer me at 
once. Where are you going to sleep to-night — in your 
state-room or in the deck cabin ? ” 

He started a little, but answered without hesitation — > 


MR. WATSON IS ASTONISHED 


361 


“ In my deck cabin.” 

“Then don’t,” she exclaimed quickly. “Say that you 
are going to if you are asked, mind that. Sit up on deck, 
out of sight, all night, stay with the captain — anything — but 
don’t sleep there, and whatever you may see don’t be sur- 
prised, and please don’t think too badly of me.” 

He was surprised to see that her cheeks were burning 
and her eyes were wet. He laid his hand tenderly upon 
her arm. 

“ I will promise that at any rate,” he said. 

“ And you will remember what I have told you ? ” 

“ Most certainly,” he promised. “ Your warnings are not 
things to be disregarded.” 

She drew a quick little breath and looked nervously over 
her shoulders. 

“ I am afraid,” he said kindly, “ that you are not well 
to-day. Has that fellow been frightening or ill-using 
you ? ” 

Her face was very close to his, and he fancied that he 
could hear her teeth chattering. She was obviously 
terrified. 

“ We must not be talking too seriously,” she murmured. 
“ He may be here at any moment. I want you to remem- 
ber that there is a price set upon you and he means tp earn 
it. He would have killed you before, but he wants to avoid 
detection. You had better tell the captain everything. 
Remember, you must be on the watch always.” 

“ I can protect myself now that I am warned,” he said, 
reassuringly. “ I have carried my life in my hands many a 
time before. But you ? ” 

She shivered. 

“ They tell me,” she whispered, “ that from Boston you 
can take a train right across the Continent, thousands of 
miles. I am going to take the very first one that starts 
when I land, and I am going to hide somewhere in the 


362 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


furthest corner of the world I can get to. To live in such 
fear would drive me mad, and I am not a coward. Let us 
walk; he will not think so much of our being together 
then.” 

“ I am going to ^end for a wrap,” he said, looking 
down at her thin dinner dress ; “ it is much too cold for 
you here bareheaded. We will send the steward for some- 
thing.” 

They turned round to find a tall form at their elbows. 
Mr. Watson’s voice, thin and satirical, broke the momentary 
silence. 

“You are in a great hurry for fresh air, Violet. I have 
brought your cape ; allow me to put it on.” 

He stooped down and threw the wrap over her shoulders. 
Then he drew her reluctant fingers through his arm. 

“ You were desiring to walk,” he said. “ Very well, we 
will walk together.” 

Mr. Sabin watched them disappear and, lighting a cigar, 
strolled off towards the captain’s room. Many miles away 
now he could still see the green light of the German man- 
of-war. 


CHAPTER XLVII 


^ A CHARMED LIFE 

The night was still enough, but piled-up masses of black 
clouds obscured a weakly moon, and there were only now 
and then uncertain gleams of glimmering light. There 
was no fog, nor any sign of any. The captain slept in his 
room, and on deck the steamer was utterly deserted. Only 
through the black darkness she still bounded on, her fur- 
naces roaring, and the black trail of smoke leaving a long 
clear track behind her. It seemed as though every one 
were sleeping on board the steamer except those who fed 
her fires below and the grim, silent figure who stood in the 
wheelhouse. 

Mr. Sabin, who, muffled up with rugs, was reclining in a 
deck chair, drawn up in the shadow of the long boat, was 
already beginning to regret that he had attached any im- 
portance at all to Mrs. Watson’s warning. It wanted 
only an hour or so of dawn. All night long he had sat 
there in view of the door of his deck cabin and shivered. 
To sleep had been impossible, his dozing was only fitful 
and unrestful. His hands were thrust deep down into the 
pockets of his overcoat — the revolver had long ago slipped 
from his cold fingers. More than once he had made up 
his mind to abandon his watch, to enter his room, and 
chance what might happen. And then suddenly there 

36a 


3^4 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


came what he had been waiting for all this while — a soft 
footfall along the deck : some one was making their way 
now from the gangway to the door of his cabin. 

The frown on his forehead deepened ; he leaned stealthily 
forward watching and listening intently. Surely that was 
the rustling of a silken gown, that gleam of white behind 
the funnel was the fluttering of a woman’s skirt. Suddenly 
he saw her distinctly. She was wearing a long white dressing- 
gown, and noiseless slippers of some kind. Her face was 
very pale and her eyes seemecj fixed and dilated. Once, 
twice she looked nervously behind her, then she paused 
before the door of his cabin, hesitated for a moment, and 
finally passed over the threshold. Mr. Sabin, who had been 
about to spring forward, paused. After all perhaps he was 
safer where he was. 

There was a full minute during which nothing happened. 
Mr. Sabin, who had now thoroughly regained his composure, 
lingered in the shadow of the boat prepared to wait upon 
the course of events, but a man’s footstep this time fell 
softly upon the deck. Some one had emerged from the 
gangway and was crossing towards his room. Mr. Sabin 
peered cautiously through the twilight. It was Mr. Watson, 
of New York, partially dressed, with a revolver flashing in 
his hand. Then Mr. Sabin perceived the full wisdom of 
having remained where he was. 

Under the shadow of the boat he drew a little nearer to 
the door of the cabin. There was absolute silence within. 
What they were doing he could not imagine, but the place 
was in absolute darkness. Thoroughly awake now he 
crouched within a few feet of the door listening intently. 
Once he fancied that he could hear a voice, it seemed to 
him that a hand was groping along the wall for the knob 
of the electric light. Then the door was softly opened and 
the woman came out. She stood for a moment leaning a 
little forward, listening intently ready to make her retreat 


A CHARMED LIFE 


3^>5 

immediately she was assured that the coast was clear ! She 
was a little pale, but in a stray gleam of moonlight Mr. 
Sabin fancied that he caught a glimpse of a smile upon her 
parted lips. There was a whisper from behind her shoulder ; 
she answered in a German monosyllable. Then, apparently 
satisfied that she was unobserved, she stepped out, and, 
flitting round the funnel, disappeared down the gangway. 
Mr. Sabin made no attempt to stop her or to disclcse his 
presence. His fingers had closed now upon his revolver — 
he was waiting for the man. The minutes crept on — 
nothing happened. Then a hand softly closed the window 
looking out upon the deck, immediately afterwards the door 
was pushed open and Mr. Watson, with a handkerchief to 
his mouth, stepped out. 

He stood perfectly still listening for a moment. Then 
he was on the point of stealing away, when a hand fell 
suddenly upon his shoulder. He was face to face with Mr. 
Sabin. 

He started back with a slight but vehement guttural 
interjection. His hand stole down towards his pocket, but 
the shining argument in Mr. Sabin’s hand was irresistible. 

“ Step back into that room, Mr. Watson; I want to speak 
to you.” 

He hesitated. Mr. Sabin reaching across him opened 
the door of the cabin. Immediately they were assailed 
with the fumes of a strange, sickly odour ! Mr. Sabin 
laughed softly, but a little bitterly. 

“ A very old-fashioned device,” he murmured. “ I gave 
you credit for more ingenuity, my friend. Come, I have 
opened the window and the door you see ! Let us step 
inside. There will be sufficient fresh air.” 

Mr. Watson was evidently disinclined to make the effort. 
He glanced covertly up the deck, and seemed to be pre- 
paring himself for a rush. Again that little argument of 
jBteel and the grim look on Mr. Cabin’s tace prevailed. 


366 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


They both crossed the threshold. ' The odour, though 
powerful, was almost nullified by the rushing of the salt 
wind through the open window and door which Mr. Sabin 
had fixed open with a catch. Reaching out his hand he 
pulled down a little brass hook — the room was immediately 
lit with the soft glare of the electric light. 

Mr. Sabin, having assured himself that his companion’s 
revolver was safely bestowed in his hip pocket and could 
not be reached without warning, glanced carefully around 
his cabin. 

He looked first towards the bed and smiled. His little 
device, then, had succeeded. The rug which he had rolled 
up under the sheets into the shape of a human form was 
undisturbed. In the absence of a light Mr. Watson had 
evidently taken for granted that the man whom he had 
sought to destroy was really in the room. The two men 
suddenly exchanged glances, and Mr. Sabin smiled at the 
other’s look of dismay. 

“ It was not like you,” he said gently ; “ it was really 
very clumsy indeed to take for granted my presence here. 
I have great faith in you and your methods, my friend, 
but do you think that it would have been altogether wise 
for me to have slept here alone with unfastened door — 
under the circumstances ? ” 

Mr. Watson admitted his error with a gleam in his dark 
eyes, which Mr. Sabin accepted as an additional warning. 

“Your little device,” he continued, raising an unstopped 
flask from the table by the side of the bed, is otherwise 
excellent, and I feel that I owe you many thanks for 
arranging a death that should be painless. You might 
have made other plans which would have been not only 
more clumsy, but which might have caused me a consider- 
able amount of personal inconvenience and discomfort. 
Your arrangements, I see, were altogether excellent. You 
arranged for my — er — extermination asleep or awake. If 


A CHARMED LIFE 


367 


awake the little visit which your charming wife had just 
paid here was to have provided you at once with a motive 
for the crime and a distinctly mitigating circumstance. 
That was very ingenious. Pardon my lighting a cigarette, 
these fumes are a little powerful. Then if I was asleep and 
had not been awakened by the time you arrived — well, it 
was to be a drug ! Supposing, my dear Mr. Watson, you 
do me the favour of emptying this little flask into the sea. 

Mr. Watson obeyed promptly. There were several points 
in his favour to be gained by the destruction of this evidence 
of his unsuccessful attempt. As he crossed the deck 
holding the little bottle at arm’s length from him a delicate 
white vapour could be distinctly seen rising from the bottle 
and vanishing into the air. There was a little hiss like the 
hiss of a snake as it touched the water, and a spot of white 
froth marked the place where it sank. 

“ Much too strong,” Mr. Sabin murmured. “ A sad 
waste of a very valuable drug, my friend. Now will you 
please come inside with me. We must have a little chat. 
But first kindly stand quite still for one moment. There 
is no particular reason why I should run any risk. I am 
going to take that revolver from your pocket and throw it 
overboard.” 

Mr. Watson’s first instinct was evidently one of resist- 
ance. Then suddenly he felt the cold muzzle of a revolver 
upon his forehead. 

“ If you move,” Mr. Sabin said quietly, “ you are a 
dead man. My best policy would be to kill'you; I am 
foolish not to do it. But I hate violence. You are safe if 
you do as I tell you.” 

Mr. Watson recognised the fact that his companion was 
in earnest. He stood quite still and watched his revolver 
describe a semicircle in the darkness and a fall with a little 
splash in the water. Then he followed Mr. Sabin into his 
cabin. 


CHAPTER XLVIII 


THE DOOMSCHEN 

SUPPOSE,” Mr. Sabin began, closing the door of the 
cabin behind him, “that I may take it — this episode — as 
an indication of your refusal to accept the proposals I 
made to you?’ 

Mr. Watson did not immediately reply. He had seated 
himself on the corner of a lounge and was leaning forward, 
his head resting moodily upon his hands. His sallow face 
was paler even than usual, and his expression was sullen. 
He looked, as he undoubtedly was, in an evil humour with 
himself and all things. 

“ It was not a matter of choice with me,” he muttered. 
“ Look out of your window there and you will see that even 
here upon the ocean I am under surveillance.” 

Mr, Sabin’s eyes followed the man’s forefinger. Far 
away across the ocean he could see a dim green light 
almost upon the horizon. It was the German man-of-war. 

“That is quite true,” Mr. Sabin said. “I admit that 
there are difficulties, but it seems to me that you have over- 
looked the crux of the whole matter. I have offered you 
enough to live on for the rest of your days, without ever 
returning to Europe. You know very well that you can 
step off this ship arm-in-arm with me when we reach 
Boston, even though your man-of-war be alongside the 

368 


THE DOOMSCHEN 


369 


dock. They could not touch you — you could leave your — 
pardon me — not too honourable occupation once and for 
ever. America is not the country in which one would 
choose to live, but it has its resources — it can give you big 
game and charming women. I have lived there and I 
know. It is not Europe, but it is the next best thing. 
Come, you had better accept my terms ! ” 

The man had listened without moving a muscle of his 
face. There was something almost pitiable in its white, 
sullen despair. Then his lips parted. 

“ Would to God I could ! ” he moaned. “ Would to 
God I had the power to listen to you ! ” 

Mr. Sabin flicked the ash off his cigarette and looked 
thoughtful. He stroked his grey imperial and kept his 
eyes on his companion. 

“ The extradition laws,” the other interrupted savagely. 

Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders. “By all means,” he 
murmured. “Personally I have no interest in them; but 
if you would talk like a reasonable man and tell me where 
your difficulty lies I might be able to help you.” 

The man who had called himself Watson raised his head 
slowly. His expression remained altogether hopeless. He 
had the appearance of a man given wholly over to despair. 

“ Have you ever heard of the Doomschen ? ” he asked 
slowly. 

Mr. Sabin shuddered. He became suddenly very grave. 
“ You are not one of them ? ” he exclaimed. 

The man bowed his head. 

“ I am one of those devils,” he admitted. 

Mr. Sabin rose to his feet and walked up and down the 
little room. 

“Of course,” he remarked, “that complicates matters, 
but there ought to be a way out of it. Let me think for a 
moment.” 

The man on the lounge sat still with unchanging face. 
24 


370 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


In his heart he knew that there was no way out of it. The 
chains which bound him were such as the hand of man had 
no power to destroy. The arm of his master was long. It 
had reached him here — it would reach him to the farther- 
most corner of the world. Nor could Mr. Sabin for the 
moment see any light. The man was under perpetual 
sentence of death. There was no country in the world 
which would not give him up, if called upon to do so. 

“What you have told me,” Mr. Sabin said, “explains, of 
course to a certain extent, your present indifference to my 
offers. But when I first approached you in this way you 
certainly led me to think ” 

“ That was before that cursed Kaiser Wilhelm came up,” 
Watson interrupted. “ I had a plan — I might have made a 
rush for liberty at any rate ! ” 

“ But surely you would have been marked down at 
Boston,” Mr. Sabin said. 

“The only friend I have in the world,” the other said 
slowly, “is the manager of the Government’s Secret Cable 
Office at Berlin. He was on my side. It would have 
given me a chance, but now ” — he looked out of the window 
— “ it is hopeless ! ” 

Mr. Sabin resumed his chair and lit a fresh cigarette. 
He had thought the matter out and began to see light. 

“It is rather an awkward fix,” he said, “but ‘hopeless* 
is a word which I do not understand. As regards our 
present dilemma I think that I see an excellent way out 
of it.” 

A momentary ray of hope Hashed across the man’s face. 
Then he shook his head. 

“ It is not possible,” he murmured. 

Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. 

“My friend,” he said, “I perceive that you are a 
pessimist ! You will find yourself in a very short time a 
free man with the best of your life before you. Take my 


THE DOOMSCHEN 


371 


advice. Whatever career you embark in do so in a more 
sanguine spirit. Difficulties to the man who faces them 
boldly lose half their strength. But to proceed. You are 
one of those who are called ‘ Doomschen.’ That means, I 
believe, that you have committed a crime punishable by 
death, — that you are on parole only so long as you remain 
in the service of the Secret Police of your country. That 
is so, is it not ? ” 

The man assented grimly. Mr. Sabin continued — 

“ If you were to abandon your present task and fail to 
offer satisfactory explanations — if you were to attempt to 
settle down in America, your extradition, I presume, would 
at once be applied for. You would be given no second 
chance.” 

“I should be shot without a moment’s hesitation,” 
Watson admitted grimly. 

“ Exactly ; and there is, I believe, another contingency. 
If you should succeed in your present enterprise, which, I 
presume, is my extermination, you would obtain your 
freedom.” 

The man on the lounge nodded. A species of despair 
was upon him. This man was his master in all ways. He 
would be his master to the end. 

“ That brings us,” Mr. Sabin continued, “ to my 
proposition. I must admit that the details I have not 
fully thought out yet, but that is a matter of only half an 
hour or so. I propose that you should kill me in Boston 
Harbour and escape to your man-of-war. They will, of 
course, refuse to give you up, and on your return to 
Germany you will receive your freedom.” 

“But — but you,” Watson exclaimed, bewildered, “you 
don’t want to be killed, surely ? ” 

“ I do not intend to be — actually,” Mr. Sabin explained. 
“ Exactly how I am going to manage it I can’t tell you just 
now, but it will be quite easy. I shall be dead to the 


372 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


belief of everybody on board here except the captain, and 
he will be our accomplice. I shall remain hidden until 
your Kaiser Wilhelm has left, and when I do land in 
America — it shall not be as Mr. Sabin.” 

Watson rose to his feet. He was a transformed man. 
A sudden hope had brightened his face. His eyes were on 
fire. 

“ It is a wonderful scheme ! ” he exclaimed. “ But the 
captain — surely he will never consent to help?” 

“On the contrary,” Mr. Sabin answered, “he will do it 
for the asking. There is not a single difficulty which we 
cannot easily surmount.” 

“There is my companion,” Watson remarked; “she 
will have to be reckoned with.” 

“Leave her,” Mr. Sabin said, “to me. I will undertake 
that she^hall be on our side before many hours are passed. 
You had better go down to your room now. It is getting 
light and I want to rest.” 

Watson paused upon the threshold. He pointed in 
some embarrassment to the table by the side of the bed. 

“Is it any use,” he murmured in a low tone, “saying 
that I am sorry for this ? ” 

“You only did — what — in a sense was your duty,” Mr. 
Sabin answered. “I bear no malice — especially since 1 
escaped.” 

Watson closed the door and Mr. Sabin glanced at the 
bed. For a moment or two he hesitated, although the 
desire for sleep had gone by. Then he stepped out on to 
the deck and leaned thoughtfully over the white railing. 
Far away eastwards there were signs already of the coming 
day. A soft grey twilight rested upon the sea ; darker and 
blacker the waters seemed just then by contrast with the 
lightening skies. A fresh breeze was blowing. There was 
no living thing within sight save that faint green light where 
the rolling sea touched the clouds. Mr. Sabin’s eyes grew 


THE DOOMSCHEN 


373 


fixed. A curious depression came over him in that half hour 
before the dawn when all emotion is quickened by that 
intense brooding stillness. He was passing, he felt, into 
perpetual exile. He who had been so intimately in touch 
with the large things of the world had come to that point 
when after all he was bound to write his life down a 
failure. For it’s great desire was no nearer consummation. 
He had made his grand effort and he had failed. He had 
been very near success. He had seen closely into the 
Promised Land. Perhaps it was such thoughts as these 
which made his non-success the more bitter, and then, with 
the instincts of a philosopher, he asked himself now, 
surrounded in fancy by the fragments of his broken dreams, 
whether it had been worth while. That love of the beautiful 
and picturesque side of his country which had been his 
first inspiration, which had been at the root of his 
passionate patriotism, seemed just then in the grey moments 
of his despair so weak a thing. He had sacrificed so much 
to it — his whole life had been moulded and shaped to that 
one end. There had been other ways in which he might 
have found happiness. Was he growing morbid, he 
wondered, bitterly but unresistingly, that her face should 
suddenly float before his eyes. In fancy he could see her 
coming towards him there across the still waters, the old 
brilliant smile upon her lips, the lovelight in her eyes, that 
calm disdain of all other men written so plainly on the face 
which should surely have been a queen’s. 

Mr. Sabin thought of those things which had passed, and 
he thought of what was to come, and a moment of bitter- 
ness crept into his life which he knew must leave its mark 
for ever. His head drooped into his hands and remained 
buried there. Thus he stood until the first ray of sunlight 
travelling across the water fell upon him, and he knew that 
morning had come. He crossed the deck, and entering 
his cabin closed the door. 


CHAPTER XLIX 

MR. SABIN IS SENTIMENTAL 

Mr. Sabin found it a harder matter than he had anticipated 
to induce the captain to consent to the scheme he had 
formulated. Nevertheless, he succeeded in the end, and 
by lunch time the following day the whole affair was 
settled. There vras a certain amount of risk in the affair, 
but, on the other hand, if successfully carried out, it set 
free once and for ever the two men mainly concerned in it. 
Mr. Sabin, who was in rather a curious mood, came out of 
the captain’s room a little after one o’clock feeling alto- 
gether indisposed for conversation of any sort, ordered his 
luncheon from the deck steward, and moved his chair apart 
from the others into a sunny, secluded corner of the boat. 

It was here that Mrs. Watson found him an hour later. 
He heard the rustle of silken draperies across the deck, a 
faint but familiar perfume suddenly floated into the salt, 
sunlit air. He looked around to find her bending over 
him, a miracle of white — cool, dainty, and elegant. 

“ And why this seclusion, Sir Misanthrope ? ” 

He laughed and dragged her chair alongside of his. 

“Come and sit down,” he said. “ I want to talk to you. 
I want,” he added, lowering his voice, “to thank you for 
your warning.” 

They were close together now and alone, cut off from the 
374 


MR. SABIN IS SENTIMENTAL 


375 


other chairs by one of the lifeboats. She looked up at him 
from amongst the cushions with which her chair was hung. 

“You understood,” she murmured. 

“Perfectly.” 

“You are safe now,” she said. “ From him at any rate. 
You have won him over.” 

“ I have found a way of safety,” Mr. Sabin said, “ for 
both of us.” 

She leaned her head upon her delicate white fingers, and 
looked at him curiously. 

“Your plans,” she said, “are admirable; but what of 
me ? ” 

Mr. Sabin regarded her with some faint indication of 
surprise. He was not sure what she meant. Did she 
expect a reward for her warning, he wondered. Her words 
would seem to indicate something of the sort, and yet he 
was not sure. 

“ I am afraid,” he said kindly, “ we have not considered 
you very much yet. You will go on to Boston, of course. 
Then I suppose you will return to Germany.” 

“Never,” she exclaimed, with suppressed passion. “I 
have broken my vows. I shall never set foot in Germany 
again. I broke them for your sake.” 

Mr. Sabin looked at her thoughtfully. 

“ I am glad to hear you say that,” he declared. “ Believe 
me, my dear young lady, I have seen a great deal of such 
matters, and I can assure you that the sooner you break 
away from all association with this man Watson and his 
employers the better.” 

“ It is all over,” she murmured. “ I am a free woman.” 

Mr. Sabin was delighted to hear it. Yet he felt that 
there was a certain awkwardness between them. He was 
this woman’s debtor, and he had made no effort to dis- 
charge his debt. What did she expect from him ? He lookesd 
at her through half-closed eyes, and wondered. 


376 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


“ If I can be of any use to you,” he suggested softly, “ in 
any fresh start you may make in life, you have only to 
command me.” 

She kept her face averted from him. There was land in 
sight, and she seemed much interested in it. 

“ What are you going to do in America ? ” 

Mr. Sabin looked out across the sea, and he repeated her 
question to himself. What was he going to do in this great, 
strange land, whose ways were not his ways, and whose 
sympathies lay so far apart from his ? 

“ I cannot tell,” he murmured. “ I have come here for 
safety. I have no country nor any friends. This is the 
land of my exile.” 

A soft, white hand touched his for a moment. He looked 
into her face, and saw there an emotion which surprised 
him. 

“ It is my exile too,” she said. I shall never dare to 
return. I have no wish to return.” 

“ But your friends ? ” Mr. Sabin commenced. “ Your 
family?” 

“ I have no family.” 

Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for several moments, then he 
took out his case and lit a cigarette. He watched the blue 
smoke floating away over the ship’s side, and looked no 
more at the woman at his elbow. 

“ If you decide,” he said quietly, “ to settle in America, 
you must not allow yourself to forget that I am very much 
your debtor. I ” 

“ Your friendship,” she interrupted, “ I shall be very 
glad to have. We may perhaps help one another to feel 
less lonely.” 

Mr. Sabin gently shook his head. 

“I had a friend of your sex once,” he said. “I shall^ 
forgive me — never have another.” 

“Is she dead?” 


MR. SABIN IS SENTIMENTAL 


377 


“ If she is dead, it is I who have killed her. I sacrificed 
her to my ambition. We parted, and for months — for 
years — I scarcely thought of her, and now the day of 
retribution has come. I think of her, but it is in vain. 
Great barriers have rolled between us since those days, 
but she was my first friend, and she will be my only one.” 

There was a long silence. Mr. Sabin’s eyes were fixed 
steadily seawards. A flood of recollections had suddenly 
taken possession of him. When at last he looked round, 
the chair by his side was vacant. 


CHAPTER T, 


A HARBOUR TRAGEDY 

The voyage of the Calipha came to its usual termination 
about ten o’clock on the following morning, when she 
passed Boston lights and steamed slowly down the smooth 
waters of the harbour. The seven passengers were all upon 
deck in wonderfully transformed guise. Already the steamer 
chairs were being tied up and piled away ; the stewards, 
officiously anxious to render some last service, were 
hovering around. Mrs. Watson, in a plain tailor gown 
and quiet felt hat, was sitting heavily veiled apart and 
alone. There were no signs of either Mr. Watson or Mr. 
Sabin. The captain was on the bridge talking to the 
pilot. Scarcely a hundred yards away lay the Kaiser 
Wilhelm^ white and stately, with her brass work shining 
like gold in the sunlight, and her decks as white as 
snow. 

The Calipha was almost at a standstill, awaiting the 
doctor’s brig, which was coming up to her on the port 
side. Every one was leaning over the railing watching her. 
Mr. Watson and Mr. Sabin, who had just come up the 
gangway together, turned away towards the deserted side 
of the boat, engaged apparently in serious conversation. 
Suddenly every one on deck started. A revolver shot, 
followed by two heavy splashes in the water, rang oqt 


A HARBOUR TRAGEDY 


379 


clear and crisp above the clanking of chains and slighter 
noises. There was a moment’s startled silence — every one 
looked at one another — then a rush for the starboard side 
of the steamer. Above the little torrent of minor exclama- 
tions, the captain’s voice sang out like thunder. 

“Lower the number one boat. Quartermaster, man a 
crew.” 

The seven passengers, two stewards, and a stray seaman 
arrived on the starboard side of the gangway at about the 
same moment. There was at first very little to be seen. 
A faint cloud of blue smoke was curling upwards, and 
there was a strong odour of gunpowder in the air. On 
the deck were lying a small, recently-discharged revolver 
and a man’s white linen cap, which, from it’s somewhat 
peculiar shape, every one recognised at once as belonging 
to Mr. Sabin. At first sight, there was absolutely nothing 
else to be seen. Then, suddenly, some one pointed to a 
man’s head about fifty yards away in the water. Every one 
crowded to the side to look at it. It was hard at that 
distance to distinguish the features, but a little murmur 
arose, doubtful at first, but gaining confidence. It was 
the head of Mr. Watson. The murmur rather grew than 
increased when it was seen that he was swimming, ‘ not 
towards the steamer, but away from it, and that he was 
alone. Where was Mr. Sabin ? 

A slight cry from behind diverted attention for a moment 
from the bobbing head. Mrs. Watson, who had heard the 
murmurs, was lying in a dead faint across a chair. One of 
the women moved to her side. The others resumed their 
watch upon events. 

A boat was already lowered. Acting upon instructions 
from the captain, the crew combined a search for the 
missing man with a leisurely pursuit of the fugitive one. 
The first lieutenant stood up in the gunwale with a hook 
in his hand, looking from right to left, and the men pulled 


380 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


with slow, even strokes. But nowhere was there any sign 
of Mr. Sabin. 

The man who was swimming was now almost out of 
sight, and the first lieutenant, who was in command of the 
little search party, reluctantly gave orders for the quickening 
of his men’s stroke. But almost as the men bent to their 
work, a curious thing happened. The fugitive, who had 
been swimming at a great pace, suddenly threw up his arms 
and disappeared. 

“ He’s done, by Jove !” exclaimed the lieutenant. “ Row 
hard, you chaps. We must catch him when he rises.” 

But to all appearance, Mr. J. B. Watson, of New York, 
never rose again. The boat was rowed time after time 
around the spot where he had sunk, but not a trace was to 
be found of him. The only vessel anywhere near was the 
Kaiser Wilhelm. They rowed slowly up and hailed her. 

An officer came to the railing and answered their 
inquiries in execrable English. No, they had not seen 
any one in the water. They had not picked any one up. 
Yes, if Herr Lieutenant pleased, he could come on board, 
but to make a search — no, without authority. No, it was 
impossible that any one could have been taken on board 
without his knowledge. He pointed down the steep sides 
of the steamship and shrugged his shoulders. It was 
indeed an impossible feat. The lieutenant of the Calipha 
saluted and gave the order to his men to backwater. Once 
more they went over the ground carefully. There was no 
sign of either of the men. After about three-quarters of an 
hour’s absence, they reluctantly gave up the search and 
returned to the Calipha. 

The first lieutenant was compelled to report both men 
drowned. The captain was in earnest conversation with 
an official in plain dark livery. The boat of the harbour 
police was already waiting below. The whole particulars of 
the affair were scanty enough. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Watson 


A HARBOUR TRAGEDY 


381 


were seen to emerge from the gangway together, engaged 
in animated conversation. They had at first turned to the 
left, but seeing the main body of the passengers assembled 
there, had stepped back again and emerged on the starboard 
side which was quite deserted. After then, no one except 
the captain had even a momentary glimpse of them, and 
his was so brief that it could scarcely be called more than an 
impression. He had been attracted by a slight cry, he believed 
from Mr. Sabin, and had seen both men struggling together 
in the act of disappearing in the water. He had seen none 
of the details of the fight ; he could not even say whether 
Mr. Sabin or Mr. Watson had been the aggressor, although 
on that subject there was only one opinion. Mrs. Watson 
was absolutely overcome, and unable to answer any ques- 
tions, but as regards the final quarrel and struggle between 
the two men, it was impossible for her to have seen any- 
thing of it, as she was sitting in a steamer chair on the 
opposite side of the boat. There was at present absolutely 
no further light to be thrown upon the affair. The sergeant 
of police signalled for his boat and went off to make his 
report. The Calipha at half-speed steamed slowly for the 
dock. 

Arrived there her passengers, crew and officers became 
the natural and recognised prey of the American press-man. 
The captain sternly refused to answer a single question, 
and in peremptory fashion ordered every stranger off his 
ship. But nevertheless his edict was avoided in the 
confusion of landing, and the Customs House effectually 
barred flight on the part of their victims. Somehow or 
other, no one exactly knew how or from what source they 
came, strange rumours began to float about. Who was 
Mr. J. B. Watson of New York, yacht owner and million- 
aire? No one had ever heard of him, and he did not 
answer in the least to the description of any known Watson. 
The closely veiled features of his widow were eagerly 


382 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


scanned — one by one the newspaper men confessed them- 
selves baffled. No one had ever seen her before. One 
man, the most daring of them, ventured upon a timid 
question as she stepped down the gangway. She passed 
him by with a swift look of contempt. None of the others 
ventured anything of the sort — but, nevertheless, they 
watched her, and they made note of two things. The first 
was that there was no one to meet her — the second that 
instead of driving to a railway depot, or wiring to any 
friends, she went straight to an hotel and engaged a room 
for the night. 

The press-men took counsel together, and agreed that it 
was very odd. They thought it odder still when one of 
their number, calling at the hotel later in the day, was 
informed that Mrs. Watson, after engaging a room for the 
week, had suddenly changed her mind, and had left Boston 
without giving any one any idea as to her destination. 
They took counsel together, and they found fresh food for 
sensation in her flight. She was the only person who could 
throw any light upon the relations between the two men, 
and she had thought fit to virtually efface herself. They 
made the most of her disappearance in the thick black 
headlines which headed every column in the Boston evening 
papers. 


CHAPTER LI 


THE PERSISTENCE OF FELIX 

Of all unhappy men he is assuredly the most unhappy who, 
ambitious, patient, and doggedly persevering, has chosen 
the moment to make his supreme venture and having made 
it has reaped failure instead of success. The gambler 
while he lives may play again ; the miser, robbed, embark 
once more upon his furtive task of hoarding money ; even 
the rejected lover need not despair of some day, som^here 
finding happiness, since no one heart has a monopoly of 
love. But to him who aspires to shape the destiny of 
nations, to control the varying interests of great powers and 
play upon the emotions of whole peoples, there is never 
vouchsafed more than one opportunity. And failure then 
does more than bring upon the schemer the execration of 
the world he would have controlled : it clears eyes into 
which he had thrown dust, awakens passions he had lulled 
to sleep, provokes hostility where he had made false peace, 
and renders for ever impossible the recombination of con- 
ditions under which alone he could, if at all, succeed. 
For such an one life has lost all its savour. Existence may 
perhaps be permitted to him, but no more He stakes his 
all upon one single venture, and, win or lose, he has no 
second throw. Failure is absolute, and spells despair. 

In such unhappy state was Mr. Sabin. More than ten 
days had passed since the tragedy in Boston Harbour, and 
now he sat alone in a private room in a small but exclusive 

383 


384 


MYSTERIOaS MR. SABIN 


hotel in New York. He had affected no small change in 
his appearance by shaving off his imperial and moustache, 
but a far more serviceable disguise was provided for him by 
the extreme pallor of his face and the listlessness of his 
every movement. He had made the supreme effort of his 
life and had failed ; and failure had so changed his whole 
demeanour that had any of his recent companions on the 
Calipha been unexpectedly confronted with him it is 
doubtful if they would have recognised him. 

For a brief space he had enjoyed some of the old zest 
of life in scheming for the freedom of his would-be mur- 
derer, in outwitting the police and press-men, and in 
achieving his own escape ; but with all this secured, and 
in the safe seclusion of his room, he had leisure to look 
within himself and found himself the most miserable of 
men, utterly lonely, with failure to look back upon and 
nothing for which to hope. 

He had dreamed of being a minister to France ; he was 
an exile in an unsympathetic land. He had dreamed of 
restoring dynasties and readjusting the balance of power ; 
he was an alien refugee in a republic where visionaries are 
not wanted and where opulence gives control. America 
held nothing for him ; Europe had no place ; there was 
not a capital in the whole continent where he could show 
himself and live. And his mind dwelt upon the contrast 
between what might have been and what was, he tasted for 
the first time the full bitterness of isolation and despair. 
To his present plight any alternative would be preferable — 
even death. He took the little revolver which lay near him 
on the table and thoughtfully turned it over and over in his 
hand. It was as it were a key with which he could unlock 
the portal to another world, where weariness was unknown, 
and where every desire was satisfied, or unfelt : and even 
if there were no other existence beyond this, extinction was 
not an idea that repelled him now. It would be an acci- 


THE PERSISTENCE OF FELIX 385 

dent ” ; so easy to come by ; so little painful to endure. 
Should he? Should he not? Should he? 

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not 
hear the soft knock at the door nor 'the servant murmuring 
the name of a visitor ; but becoming conscious of the 
presence of some one in the room, he looked up suddenly 
to see a lady by his side. 

^‘Is there not some mistake?” he said, rising to his 
feet. ‘‘I do not think I have the pleasure ” 

She laughed and raised her veil. 

Does it make so much difference ? ” she asked 
lightly. ‘‘Yet, really, Mr. Sabin, you are more changed 
than I.” 

“I must apologize,” he said; “golden hair is — most 
becoming. But sit down and tell me how you found me 
out and why.” 

She sank into the chair he brought for her and looked 
at him thoughtfully. 

“ It does not matter .how I found you, since I did. 
Why I came is easily explained. I have had a cablegram 
from Mr. Watson.” 

“ Good news, I hope,” he said politely. 

“ I suppose it is,” she answered indifferently. “ At 
least your conspiracy seems to have been successful. It is 
generally believed that you are dead, and Mr. Watson has 
been pardoned and reinstated in all that once was his. 
And now he has sent me this cablegram asking me to join 
him in Germany and marry him.” 

Dejected as Mr. Sabin was he had not yet lost all his 
sense of humour. He found the idea excessively amusing. 

“ Let me be the first to congratulate you,” he said, his 
twinkling eyes belying the grave courtesy of his voice. “ It 
is the conventional happy end to a charming romance.” 

“Are you never serious?” she protested. 

“ Indeed, yes,” he answered. “ Forgive me for seem- 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABW 


386 

ing to be flippant about so serious a matter as a proposal 
of marriage. I presume you will accept it.” 

Am I to do so ? ” she asked gravely. It was to ask 
your advice that I came here to-day.” 

I have no hesitation in giving it,” he declared. Ac- 
cept the proposal at once. It means emancipation for 
you — emancipation from a career of espionage which has 
nothing to recommend it. There cannot be two opinions 
on such a point : give up this unwholesome business and 
make this man, and yourself too, happy. You will never 
regret it.” 

“ I wish I could be as sure of that,” she said wistfully. 

Mr. Sabin, with his training and natural power of seeing 
through the words to the heart of the speaker, could not 
misunderstand her, and he spoke with a gentle earnestness 
very moving. 

** Believe me, my dear lady, when I say that to every one 
once at least in his life there comes a chance of happiness, 
although every one is not wise enough to take it. I had 
my chance, and I threw it away : there has never been an 
hour in my life since then that I have not regretted it. 
Let me help you to be wiser than I was. I am an old 
man now ; I have played for high stakes and have had my 
share of winning ; I have been involved in great affairs, I 
have played my part in the making of history. And I 
speak from experience ; security lies in middle ways, and 
happiness belongs to the simple life. To what has my in- 
terest in things of high import brought me? I am an 
exile from my country, doomed to pass the small remainder 
of my days among a people whom I know not and with 
whom I have nothing in common. 

I have a heart and now I am paying the penalty for 
having treated badly the one woman who had power to 
touch it ; so bitter a penalty that I would I could save you 
from the experiencing the like. You come to me fox 


THE PERSISTENCE OF FELIX 


387 


advice ; then be advised by me. Leave meddling with 
aflfairs that are too high for you. Walk in those middle 
ways where safety is, and lead the simple life where alone 
happiness is. And let me part from you knowing that to 
one human being at least I have helped to give what alone 
is worth the having. Need I say any more?” 

She took his hands and pressed them. 

Goodbye,” she said. I shall start for Germany 
to-morrow.” 

« « « « « 

So Mr. Sabin was left free to return to his former melan- 
choly mood ; but it was not long before fresh interruption 
came. A servant brought a cablegram. 

Be sure you deliver my letter to Lenox,” it ran, and 
the signature was “ Felix.” 

He rolled the paper into a little ball and threw it on one 
side, and presently went into his dressing-room to change for 
dinner. As he came into the hall another servant brought 
him another cablegram. He opened it and read — 

“ Deliver my letter at once. — Felix.” 

He tore the paper carefully into little pieces, and went 
into the dining-room for dinner. He dined leisurely and 
well, and lingered over his coffee, lost in meditation. He 
was still sitting so when a third servant brought him yet 
another cablegram — 

‘‘ Remember your promise. — Felix.” 

Then Mr. Sabin rose. 

“ Will you please see that my bag is packed,” he said 
to the waiting man, ** and let my account be prepared and 
brought to me upstairs. I shall leave by the night train.” 


CHAPTER LII 


MRS. JAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX. 

Mr. Sabin found himself late on the afternoon of the 
following day alone on the platform of a little wooden 
station, watching the train which had dropped him there 
a few minutes ago snorting away round a distant curve. 
Outside, the servant whom he had hired that morning in 
New York was busy endeavouring to arrange for a convey- 
ance of some sort in which they might complete their 
journey. Mr. Sabin himself was well content to remain 
where he was. The primitiveness of the place itself and 
the magnificence of his surroundings had made a distinct 
and favourable impression upon him. Facing him was a 
chain of lofty hills whose foliage, luxuriant and brilliantly 
tinted, seemed almost like a long wave of rich deep colour, 
the country close at hand was black with pine trees, through 
which indeed a winding way for the railroad seemed tc 
have been hewn. It was only a little clearing which had 
been made for the depot ; a few yards down, the line 
seemed to vanish into a tunnel of black foliage, from 
amongst which the red barked tree trunks stood out with 
the regularity of a regiment of soldiers. The clear air was 
fragrant with a peculiar and aromatic perfume, so sweet and 
wholesome that Mr. Sabin held the cigarette which he had 
lighted at arm’s length, that he might inhale this, the most 


MRS. JAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 389 


fascinating odour in the world. He was at all times sensi- 
tive to the influence of scenery and natural perfumes, and 
the possibility of spending the rest of his days in this 
country had never seemed so little obnoxious as during 
those few moments. Then his eyes suddenly fell upon a 
large white house, magnificent, but evidently newly finished, 
gleaming forth from an opening in the woods, and his 
brows contracted. His former moodiness returned. 

“It is not the country,” he muttered to himself, “it is 
the people.” 

His servant came back presently, with explanations for 
his prolonged absence. 

“ I am sorry, sir,” he said, “ but I made a mistake in 
taking the tickets.” 

Mr. Sabin merely nodded. A little time ago a mistake 
on the part of a servant was a thing which he would not 
have tolerated. But those were days which seemed to him 
to lie very far back in the past. 

“You ought to have alighted at the last station, sir,” the 
man continued. “ Stockbridge is eleven miles from 
here.” ^ 

“ What are we going to do ? ” Mr. Sabin asked. 

“ We must drive, sir. I have hired a conveyance, but 
the luggage will have to come later in the day by the cars. 
There will only be room for your dressing-bag in the 
buggy.” 

Mr. Sabin rose to his feet. 

“ The drive will be pleasant,” he said, “especially if it is 
through such country as this. I am not sure that I regret 
your mistake, Harrison. You will remain and bring the 
baggage on, I suppose ? ” 

“It will be best, sir,” the man agreed. “There is a 
train in about an hour.” 

They walked out on to the road where a one-horse buggy 
w^ting. The driyer took no more notice of them tbarj 


390 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


to terminate, in a leisurely way, his conversation with a 
railway porter, and unhitch the horse. 

Mr. Sabin took the seat by his side, and they drove off 
It was a very beautiful road, and Mr. Sabin was quite 
content to lean back in his not uncomfortable seat and 
admire the scenery. For the most part it was of a luxuriant 
and broken character. There were very few signs of agri- 
culture, save in the immediate vicinity of the large newly- 
built houses which they passed every now and then. At 
times they skirted the side of a mountain, and far below 
them in the valley the river Leine wound its way along like 
a broad silver band. Here and there the road passed 
through a thick forest of closely-growing pines, and Mr. 
Sabin, holding his cigarette away from him, leaned back 
and took long draughts of the rosinous, piney odour. It 
was soon after emerging from the last of these that they 
suddenly came upon a house which moved Mr. Sabin 
almost to enthusiasm. It lay not far back from the road, 
a very long two-storied white building, free from the over- 
ornamentation which disfigured most of the surrounding 
mansions. White pillars in front, after the colonial fashion, 
supported a long sloping veranda roof, and the smooth 
trimly-kept lawns stretched almost to the terrace which 
bordered the piazza. There were sun blinds of striped 
holland to the southern windows, and about the whole 
place there was an air of simple and elegant refinement, 
which Mr. Sabin found curiously attractive. He broke for 
the first time the silence which had reigned between him 
and the driver. 

“ Do you know,” he inquired, “ whose house that is ? ” 
The man flipped his horse’s ears with the whip. 

“ I guess so,” he answered. “ That is the old Peterson 
House. Mrs. James B. Peterson lives there now.” 

Mr. Sabin felt in his breast pocket, and extracted there- 

from a letter. It was a coincidence undoubtedly, but the 


MRS. SHAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 391 

fact was indisputable. The address scrawled thereon in 
Felix’s sprawling hand was: — 

“ Mrs. James B. Peterson, 

“ Lenox. > 

“ By favour of Mr. Sabin.” 

** I will make a call there,” Mr. Sabin said to the man. 
** Drive me up to the house.” 

The man pulled up his horse. 

“ What, do you know her ? ” he asked. 

Mr. Sabin affected to be deeply interested in a distant 
point of the landscape. The man muttered something to 
himself and turned up the drive. 

“ You have met her abroad, maybe ? ” he suggested. 

Mr. Sabin took absolutely no notice of the question. 
The man’s impertinence was too small a thing to annoy 
him, but it prevented his asking several questions which 
he would like to have had answered. The man muttered 
something about a civil answer to a civil question not 
being much to expect, and pulled up his horse in front 
of the great entrance porch. 

Mr. Sabin, calmly ignoring him, descended and stepped 
through the wide open door into a beautiful square hall in 
the centre of which was a billiard table. A servant attired 
in unmistakably English livery, stepped forward to meet 
him. 

“ Is Mrs. Peterson at home ? ” Mr. Sabin inquired. 

“We expect her in a very few minutes,” the man 
answered. “ She is out riding at present. May I inquire 
if you are Mr. Sabin, sir ? ” 

Mr. Sabin admitted the fact with some surprise. 

The man received the intimation with respect. 

“Will you kindly walk this way, your Grace,” he said. 

Mr. Sabin followed him into a large and delightfully- 
furnished library. Then he looked keenly at the servant. 


392 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN • 


“ You know me,” he remarked. 

“ Monsieur Le Due Souspennier,” the man answered 
with a bow. “I am an Englishman, but I was in the 
service of the Marquis de la Merle in Paris for ten years.” 

“ Your face,” Mr. Sabin said, “ was familiar to me. You 
look like a man to be trusted. Will you be so good as to 
remember that the Due is unfortunately dead, and I am 
Mr. Sabin.” 

“ Most certainly, sir,” the man answered. “ Is there 
anything which I can bring you ? ” 

“ Nothing, thank you,” Mr. Sabin answered. 

The man withdrew with a low bow, and Mr. Sabin 
stood for a few minutes turning over magazines and journals 
which covered a large round table, and represented the 
ephemeral literature of nearly every country in Europe. 

“Mrs. Peterson,” he remarked to himself, “must be a 
woman of Catholic tastes. Here is the Le Petit Journal 
inside the pages of the English Contemporary Review. 

He was turning the magazines over with interest, when 
he chanced to glance through the great south window a 
few feet away from him. Something he saw barely a 
hundred yards from the little iron fence which bordered 
the lawns, attracted his attention. He rubbed his eyes 
and looked at it again. He was puzzled, and was on the 
point of ringing the bell when the man who had admitted 
him entered, bearing a tray with liqueurs and cigarettes. 
Mr. Sabin beckoned him over to the window. 

“ What is that little flag ? ” he asked. 

“It is connected, I believe, in some way,” the man 
answered, “ with a game of which Mrs. Peterson is very 
fond. I believe that it indicates the locality of a small 
hole.” 

“ Golf? ” Mr. Sabin exclaimed. 

“ That is the name of the game, siq” the man stuswergd, 
J had forgotten it for the moment/’ 


MRS. JAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 393 


Mr. Sabin tried the window. 

“ I want to get out,” he said. 

The man opened it. 

“ If you are going down there, sir,” he said, “ I will send 
James Green to meet you. Mrs. Peterson is so fond of 
the game that she keeps a Scotchman here to look after 
the links and instruct her.” 

“ This,” Mr. Sabin murmured, “ is the most extraordinary 
thing in the world.” 

“ If you would like to see your room, sir, before you go 
out,” the man suggested, “it is quite ready. If you will 
give me your keys I will have your clothes laid out.” 

' Mr. Sabin turned about in amazement. 

“ What do you mean ? ” he exclaimed. “ I have not 
come here to stay.” 

“I understood so, sir,” the man answered. “Your 
room has been ready for three weeks.” 

Mr. Sabin was bewildered. Then he remembered the 
stories which he had heard of American hospitality, and 
concluded that this must be an instance of it. 

“ I had not the slightest intention of stopping here,” he 
said to the man. 

“ Mrs. Peterson expected you to do so, sir, and we have 
sent your conveyance away. If it is inconvenient for you 
to remain now, it will be easy to send you anywhere you 
desire later.” 

“ For the immediate present,” Mr. Sabin said, “ Mrs. 
Peterson not having arrived, I want to see that golf 
course.” 

“If you will permit me, sir,” the man said, “ I will show 
you the way.” 

They followed a winding footpath which brought them 
suddenly out on the border of a magnificent stretch of 
parkdike country. Mr. Sabin, whose enthusiasms were 
fare, failed wholly to restraiq ^ Jittle e^^glam^tioa qf 


394 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


admiration. A few yards away was one of the largest 
and most magnificently kept putting-greens that he had 
ever seen in his life. By his side was a raised teeing- 
ground, well and solidly built. Far away down in the 
valley he could see the flag of the first hole just on the 
other side of a broad stream. 

“The gentleman’s a golf-player, maybe?” remarked a 
voice by his side, in familiar dialect. Mr. Sabin turned 
around to find himself confronted by a long, thin Scotch- 
man, who had strolled out of a little shed close at 
hand. 

“I am very fond of the game,” Mr. Sabin admitted. 
“ You appear to me to have a magnificent course here.” 

“ It’s none so bad,” Mr. James Green admitted. “ Maybe 
the gentleman would like a round.” 

“There is nothing in this wide world,” Mr. Sabin 
answered truthfully, “that I should like so well. But I 
have no clubs or any shoes.” 

“Come this way, sir, come this way,” was the prompt 
reply. “ There’s clubs here of all sorts such as none but 
Jimmy Green can make, ay, and shoes too. Mr. Wilson, will 
you be sending me two boys down from the house ? ” 

In less than ten minutes Mr. Sabin was standing upon 
the first tee, a freshly lit cigarette in his mouth, and a new 
gleam of enthusiasm in his eyes. He modestly declined 
the honour, and Mr. Green forthwith drove a ball which 
he watched approvingly. 

“ That’s no such a bad ball,” he remarked. 

Mr. Sabin watched the construction of his tee, and swung 
his club lightly. “Just a little sliced, wasn’t it?” he said. 
“That will do, thanks.” He addressed his ball with a 
confidence which savoured almost of carelessness, swung 
easily back and drove a clean, hard hit ball full seventy 
yards further than the professional. The man for a moment 
was speechless with surprise, and he gave a little gasp, 


MRS. fAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 395 


“ Aye, mon,” he exclaimed. “ That was a fine drive. 
Might you be having a handicap, sir ? ” 

“ I am scratch at three clubs,” Mr. Sabin answered 
quietly, “and plus four at one.” 

A gleam of delight mingled with respect at his opponent, 
shone in the Scotchman’s face. 

“ Aye, but we will be having a fine game,” he exclaimed. 
“ Though I’m thinking you will down me. But it is grand 
good playing with a mon again.” 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 

The match was now at the fifteenth hole. Mr. Sabin, 
with a long and deadly putt — became four up and three to 
play. As the ball trickled into the hole the Scotchman 
drew a long breath. 

“ It’s a fine match,” he said, “ and I’m properly downed. 
What’s more, you’re holding the record of the links up to 
this present. Fifteen holes for sixty-four is verra good — 
verra good indeed. There’s no man in America to-day to 
beat it.” 

And then Mr. Sabin, who was on the point of making a 
genial reply, felt a sudden and very rare emotion stir his 
heart and blood, for almost in his ears there had sounded 
a very sweet and familiar voice, perhaps the voice above all 
others which he had least expected to hear again in this 
world.” 

“You have not then forgotten your golf, Mr. Sabin? 
What do you think of my little course ? ” 

He turned slowly round and faced her. She was stand- 
ing on the rising ground just above the putting-green, the 
skirt of her riding habit gathered up in her hand, her lithe, 
supple figure unchanged by time, the old bewitching smile 
still playing about her lips. She was still the most beauti- 
ful woman he had ever seen. 

Mr. Sabin, with his cap in his hand, moved slowly to her 


396 


MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN 


side, and bowed low over the hand which she extended to 
him. 

“ This is a happiness,” he murmured, “ for which I had 
never dared to hope. Are you, too, an alien ? ” 

She shook her head. 

“This,” she said, “ is the land of my adoption. Perhaps 
you did not know that I am Mrs. Peterson ? ” 

“ I did not know it,” he answered, gravely, “ for I never 
heard of your marriage.” 

They turned together toward the house. Mr. Sabin was 
amazed to find that the possibilities of emotion were still so 
great with him. 

“ I married,” she said softly, “ an American, six years 
ago. He was the son of the minister at Vienna. I have 
lived here mostly ever since.” 

“ Do you know who it was that sent me to you ? ” 

She assented quietly. 

“ It was Felix.” 

They drew nearer the house. Mr. Sabin looked around 
him. “ It is very beautiful here,” he said. 

“ It is very beautiful indeed,” she said, “ but it is very 
lonely.” 

“ Your husband ? ” he inquired. 

“ He has been dead four years.” 

Mr. Sabin felt a ridiculous return of that emotion which 
had agitated him so much on her first appearance. He 
only steadied his voice with an effort. 

“ We are both aliens,” he said quietly. “ Perhaps you 
have heard that all things have gone ill with me. I am an 
exile and a failure. I have come here to end my days.” 

She flashed a sudden brilliant smile upon him. How 
little she had changed. 

“ Did you say here ? ” she murmured softly. 

He looked at her incredulously. Her eyes were bent 
ypon tlie ground. There was something iri her fecg which 


MRS. SHAMES B. PETERSON, OF LENOX 


made Mr. Sabin forget the great failure of his life, his 
broken dreams, his everlasting exile. He whispered her 
name, and his voice trembled with a passion which for 
once was his master. 

“ Lucile,” he cried. “ It is true that you — forgive 
me ? ” 

And she gave him her hand. “ It is true,” she whispered. 


THE END, 


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